


Blackouts and Drinks

by ibeta



Series: Scenarios [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Confessions, Ecto-Genitalia (Undertale), Ecto-Penis (Undertale), Electricity Blackouts, Except the Human, First Kiss, First Time, Flustered Papyrus, Flustered Sans, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Multiple Orgasms, Mysterious Skeleton Intoxicant, No More Resets (Undertale), No one actually passes out, Oblivious Sans, Oral Sex, Promises, Protective Papyrus, everyone is legal, resets mentioned, responsible drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-12-06
Packaged: 2019-02-07 02:01:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12830952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ibeta/pseuds/ibeta
Summary: Sans doesn't drink, but he can get intoxicated. Although it takes special care to make that drink, because only skeletons can consume it safely.He only has one problem for tonight, and it wasn't drinking.He's forgotten how to dance. Sort of.Not really. But Papyrus doesn't know that.Another RESET, but it's the last. One more party, one more blackout, and maybe just... one more goodbye.He really didn't expect being coerced into drinking an intoxicant with his brother.Items from the Trope Generator: Angst, Blackouts, Drinking, Fluff, Marriage, Party, Promise, Proposal, Rare Pair, Smut





	1. part 1

**Author's Note:**

> *quivers in fear* I forgot how to smut, so you'll have to take this. A gift for 100 followers because I'm a slow writer and I need at least one fic that's done.

It was another anniversary of the Monster Freedom, the day when Frisk broke the barrier without death staining their hands. It was held inside the party room of Toriel’s school, a floor above her office. He and Papyrus had dressed up in formal wear for this event, matching suits and picking out complementary ties of orange-blue shades. Simple, but tasteful when Papyrus had been the one to choose it.

Seven years on the Surface, with Frisk’s power gone for good. He didn’t know how he did it. He managed to create a device that absorbed Frisk’s excessive magic, which, in turn, made their abilities to RESET, SAVE and LOAD so weak that they couldn’t even access it.

Frisk didn’t know about the device. He designed it immediately, right after Frisk _first_ promised to never RESET. He really hadn’t trusted their word, not after all of what happened in the separate timelines. The damage done had been enough – the security of timelines wasn’t something that he would risk. Depending on Frisk’s power had devastating consequences – death was quite prominent.

Most of the timelines Frisk dropped to the Underground, and they killed more than they saved monsters. They never really gave him a good reason for all those deaths. Maybe they were trying to achieve something. More than once he’d trusted them, and more than once Frisk had broken their promise. They didn’t know that he personally knew of the timelines. He said the same words, made the same face. He’d struggled to be the best actor in the Underground. After a while, it became a natural for him to act, to mislead everyone on purpose and to deflect topics that could lead to awkward conversations. It was easy for him to slip out of conversations, to become invisible to those with him.

He had great skills in lying of all kinds (including napping), which was why he’d inadvertently found himself sipping monster-processed apple juice while he sat in a corner of Toriel’s monster gathering. For a queen who lived on alone in the Ruins, her impressive social skills never disappeared. Many monsters dropped by, and some of them had arrived early. It didn’t discourage her at all that there would be so many people in her school. She lived and breathed being a great hostess to the visitors.

“SANS, WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?”

Sans glanced up quickly, clutching his drink closer as the person he appreciated most in the room approached him. Papyrus continued to look bothered, and Sans realized he hadn’t said anything.

“just keeping myself warm,” he answered smoothly.

“WHAT?” His brother looked taken aback. “SANS, FRISK HAS SAID THAT THEY HAVE AIRCONDITIONING NEWLY INSTALLED!”

It took barely a second to mask his irritation at the kid’s name. “well, they must be wrong, because there’s ninety degrees right here to keep me warm.”

The twitch of a smile and glaring brows drew a wider grin from him. “SANS.”

“i said i’d be _pun_ ctual, bro. if you want me to go home, i can grab a _cob_ around the _corn_ er.”

“OH MY GOD, SANS, WHY DO YOU EVEN DO THIS TO YOURSELF?!” Papyrus retaliated by swiping his glass. “NO MORE DRINKING –” Papyrus took a sip of his beverage and made a funny face that had Sans smirking “– _APPLE JUICE?!_ SANS! WHERE DID YOU ACQUIRE THIS DRINK?! THE LADY TORIEL DID NOT ADD THIS TO THE GROCERY LIST!”

“oh my god, papyrus,” he mocked playfully, earning a few looks from Toriel’s guests. He couldn’t stop his giggling. “ _your face!_ ”

Stars, really, what did Papyrus expect? Skeletons didn’t have the right _body_ to get drunk. Not even monster alcohol affected them! He’d never drink something that would allow him to lose his inhibitions. Losing control was something he could _not_ allow. No, it wasn’t right.

Papyrus’ disappointed countenance was a priceless expression he would forever cherish.

“I WAS EXPECTING THE SPECIAL ALCOHOL,” Papyrus said moodily as he handed back the drink.

Sans accepted it without bothering to hide his pleased expression, glad that he’d one-up his brother without even trying. So _that’s_ what Papyrus was doing. He was trying to sneak in a taste of the one thing that skeletons could use to get inebriated.

“i wouldn’t drink that,” he said resolutely. He would never drink something that would get him in trouble. That drink… it wasn’t something that would only get them drunk, but also spill secrets like an open casket.  Who knows what kind of filth he’d say about the kid? He didn’t want to imagine it. Toriel would toast him, and not in the good way.

Papyrus asked, tentatively, “HAVE YOU EVER—?”

Sans wanted to scowl and look away, but he didn’t. He plastered on a teasing smile and pretended he was fine with the question. “i don’t drink anything like that, papyrus.”

He also wouldn’t drink near the day his brother would predictably propose to Mettaton. He really wasn’t sure how it came to fruition in the first timeline that it happened.

Mettaton was widely known for being selfish, prideful and a little murderous in the Underground. Sans gave his brother to him regardless of that because Papyrus was happy. He had several lifetimes to adjust to the idea, even if in the first timeline his apprehension was palpable. He just didn’t know how they got together in the first place.

On one hand, he appreciated the effort Mettaton gave to spend time with his brother. On the other, he wasn’t sure whether they were really dating or just being best buds in the last timelines. But Mettaton had accepted each proposal, so it was probably closer to the former.

Papyrus had moved in with the robot after the proposal (in the last timeline), and Sans hadn’t resented him for it. It was a natural progress of life, even if he did miss his brother _so_ much. It wasn’t as warm in the house without Papyrus cooking in the kitchen. He’d missed the noise, and he had missed the nagging. He’d missed the banter, the playful jabs, and the silly laughter. There was no scent of spaghetti, or any other new thing that his brother would try to cook. Sans had filled a cupboard with Papyrus’ favourite dinosaur-eggs oatmeal, even if Papyrus had rarely visited. He’d sprinkled whatever food he had with glitter, and it wasn’t just the same.

It wouldn’t matter now, though.

It was just… after each timeline Papyrus and Mettaton got married… Sans _took a long vacation_.

This timeline, there wasn’t a RESET to stop it. He was going to dust. Finally. Oh, he _hurt_ inside, but… did it matter?

He looked at his brother and softened.

No, it didn’t matter.

Papyrus was watching him closely, so he should probably give him his full attention.

“so what are you doing here in my hot corner?” he asked, changing the subject entirely as he placed his glass on his table. “you’re too _cool_ to be here.” Heh.

“YOU SHOULD GO OUT THERE AND MINGLE, NOT BE INCREDIBLY UNSOCIABLE IN THE CORNER OF THE ROOM!” Papyrus complained, ignoring his subject change as usual. He could be a very stubborn skeleton sometimes. “UNDYNE AND ALPHYS HAVE BEEN WONDERING WHERE YOU ARE, AND THEY ARE ONLY A FEW FEET AWAY! THEY HAVE A QUESTION FOR YOU.”

Sans threw a glance at the couple on the dance floor. The music was particularly energetic, but they were slow-dancing without a care in the world. Undyne looked good in her battle dress, and Alphys looked even cuter than usual in her green dress. They had spent a lot of time going through stores until Sans had given up and hired Muffet to help him get something for the couple. He’d gotten a discount and Muffet had branched out to edible clothing. He may have invested in a lot of her work – she was a ruthless business monster. He understood that.

“i don’t really want to dance, papyrus.” He was comfortable in this tiny corner. It was crowded out there. He’d gotten weird looks from monsters that usually found him active in socializing. “it’s been… years since the last time i’ve danced.” At least, it had been years in _this_ timeline. When Papyrus was younger, and much _more_ …

“WELL, WHAT IF I ACCOMPANY YOU TO THE DANCE FLOOR, BROTHER?” Sans jolted in his seat, widened sockets aimed at his brother. “THE GREAT PAPYRUS WILL TEACH YOU HOW TO DANCE AGAIN!”

No matter how many times his brother said it in the same way, Sans still reacted with the same sense of surprise. “r… really? you’d do that?”

How did his brother stay so close to the script? Was his brother so predictable, or was Papyrus just that determined? Sans didn’t know how his brother stayed so true to his character, but it brought him a sense of relief and security to know that Papyrus was a constant figure in his life.

“YOU ARE MY DEAREST BROTHER, SANS, NO MATTER HOW MUCH I FIND YOUR JOKES DISTASTEFUL!” Papyrus scowled, and then smiled brightly. “IF THE OTHERS BOTHER YOU FOR A DANCE, I WILL MAKE SURE TO SAY THAT YOU WILL ONLY DANCE WITH ME! DANCING WITH ME WILL BE VERY GREAT AND ENJOYABLE!”

Sans’ soul pulsed with warmth, and he couldn’t stop his face from softening, just like in the last timeline this happened.

“papyrus…” he murmured, soul aching with affection. Really, what would he do without Papyrus’ perceptive compassion? “thank you.”

It would be a nice memory if Papyrus was his last dance.

He smiled up at his brother, meeting his hand halfway as he stood from his seat. He had one week until that day.

It was time to enjoy this.

—

He glided across the room with Papyrus, laughing as he was twirled for the third time. His brother grinned at him cheekily, acting like it was nothing. It was the one thing that was changeable in a timeline like this. To his brother, dancing was something spontaneous and fun, it wasn’t something planned. There were times he would be serious, if it was a formal occasion. But this afternoon, it was just the two of them acting silly on the dance floor, out-doing each other and yet still making sure they were only paired together.

Papyrus kept his promises. It was one thing Sans could count on. No one had bothered them on the floor when they’d zipped past with a waltz between Undyne and Alphys, who had gaped at both of them in shock. Sans thought they really shouldn’t be surprised. He and Papyrus had a slightly competitive relationship that was all about having fun.

“I THOUGHT YOU SAID YOU DIDN’T REMEMBER HOW TO DANCE, BROTHER?” Papyrus said accusingly, mouth twitching like he was suppressing a smile. Sans shrugged, offering nothing. “YOU MOVE SO FLUIDLY!”

“maybe it’s your teaching skills, bro.” He’d done this too many times to count, but this was his last dance. He wasn’t going to waste it.

Papyrus glowed with pride. “OF COURSE IT IS! I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS!”

Sans was suddenly pulled in, and then hugged and lifted enthusiastically by his brother.

_Oh._

This was… new, but not _new_. He curled his arms around his brother, returning the hug. His gloves may have felt only clothing, but it was… nice. It felt soothing. “is it cuddle time?” Sans joked, trying not to sound as nervous as he felt.

“WOO! This is too cold for you, Alph! Get the hot chocolate instead!”

He couldn’t see anything with his face planted on his brother’s sternum. Although, he could still hear Toriel giggling in the background and Undyne cackling uproariously. She was still causing another commotion. She’d accidentally set fire to one of the brownies earlier and it had to be binned.

“GET AWAY FROM MY GIRLFRIEND, KID!”

“Undyne, please don’t b-be mean. H-he just bumped into me. I’m fine.”

“Undyne, please remove your hand from the punch bowl,” Toriel requested in her queen voice.

“BUT THIS IS FUN!” Undyne whined.

Sans tuned them out, curling himself in his brother’s arms, just like in the other timeline. “well, i guess undyne had a n _ice_ soak in the punch bowl,” he mused. “she was really bothered that it would be too hot in this place.”

“IT WOULD NOT SURPRISE ME,” his brother murmured on the side of his skull. Sans snorted. If Undyne heard his brother, she would have pouted and complained about it. “IT GLADDENS ME TO SEE THEM SO LIVELY.”

Ah, the sweet sincerity of his brother’s fondness. Sans was glad they had friends like Tori, Alphys and Undyne. They were loyal, and they wouldn’t abandon Papyrus if they couldn’t help it. Undyne wasn’t someone who did things half-heartedly, and Alphys was someone who, despite being insecure, vocally advocated for someone in need. Tori… well, she was Tori. She would probably out-pun him on a good day and make Papyrus happy.

They would know how to take care of Papyrus.

“yeah,” he said slyly, snickering. “i’m glad you _swayed_ me in the right direction…”

His brother abruptly held him away by the arms, like he was a piece of unwashed sock. “I CAN _NOT_ BELIEVE YOU WOULD BEGIN THIS RIGHT NOW!” Papyrus groaned at him. “I WOULD DISOWN YOU IF I COULD!”

Sans fixated on his brother’s face. It was like seeing him for the first time, because he suddenly felt full of love. Stars, the bones of his face… he’d miss _this_ the most. The reactions, the sighing, the mock-complaining and the frustration of being one-upped – Papyrus’ little banters… he would miss it.

Sans chuckled, even if all he wanted to do was cry all night. “hey, that’s not fair. this is _me_ being tame, papyrus. i’ve held back a skele- _ton_ of jokes. a _closet_ full of them. you’ve got me on the straight and _marrow_. make no bones about it.”

 “IF WE WEREN’T IN PUBLIC, I WOULD REMIND YOU THAT I STILL HOLD YOUR PET ROCK HOSTAGE,” Papyrus said threateningly, face twitching with irritation.

Hah! As if Sans cared more for the pet rock than his brother. Still, he played along.

“pap, you’re my only brother… you can’t put me between a rock and a hard place like this.”

“I AM OFFICIALLY DISOWNING YOU!” his brother cried out in mock outrage.

A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “well, i’d like to remind you that you just said you couldn’t dis—”

“Yo, Sans, Papyrus! We’re heading to the main kitchen!” Undyne yelled out, cutting him off.

Sans glanced at the large grandfather clock that Toriel had in her party room. It was late. Huh. Had he really been dancing with Papyrus for so long? Why didn’t he feel tired?

Papyrus set him to the floor and dusted off his shoulders. “SORRY, UNDYNE!” he called out sheepishly. “WE HAVE JUST LOST TRACK OF TIME. WE SHALL FOLLOW IN A MINUTE!”

_What?_

“bro, what do you mean?”

“I want to speak with you in private,” his brother said quietly.

What was his brother doing? This wasn’t part of the script! What was new? He glanced around the room in the most nonchalant way he could, until he noticed Frisk juggling toy rings in the air for an audience of younger monsters. They wore a different set of clothes than the other timeline. This one was an orange, bedazzled suit with a horrendously electric blue tutu. It wasn’t the boring white suit that they wore in a previous timeline similar to this.

That was new. He supposed clothes could account for new changes.

“sure.” It was probably an early permission to propose to Mettaton.

He followed his brother as he turned around, heading for the balcony. They had to pass through a rowdy crowd of happy monsters, all excited to be in Toriel’s school because she was the old queen and because she served amazing snail pies. He waved at Grillby, who was tending the bar like usual. Toriel had wanted to pay him for his service in a previous event, but Grillby had refused, and then he blatantly asked the queen out on a date… right in front of Asgore.

Poor Fluffybuns. He never stood a chance. Toriel had giggled and accepted, and that was the end of it… sort of. Two years later, they were still together, and Toriel retold some of her hilarious date stories with Grillby.

Two of his friends were still dating. He wondered sometimes if they got married after he was… gone.

Sans stepped outside with Papyrus, and his gaze settled to the full moon and the stars in the sky. It was such a beautiful night. The balcony was right over the garden of glowing flowers that didn’t echo. He could hear crickets from below. He could even see Papyrus’ special hedge from the balcony if he adjusted his eyesight.

“so… what’s up, bro?” he asked, leaning his elbows on the railings and facing his brother. “it’s not like you to miss kitchen time.”

“I would like to ask if you have an idea what you want for dinner tomorrow.” His brother looked oddly determined.

That… wasn’t what he expected at all.

“just cook whatever you want, pap. i can eat anything.”

His brother stared at him meaningfully, and Sans really couldn’t understand that expression. What was he meant to know?

“I… I’m sorry. I think I am being too unclear. What I meant is…” Papyrus paused, taking a deep breath. It made Sans nervous to experience his brother’s ineloquence. Where did his confidence go? “I… would like to speak to you about something extremely important tomorrow night.”

Oh, so it was a buildup to the permission?

“papyrus,” he said carefully, stealing a glance at the balcony doors. Mettaton was inside, dancing in the centre of the floor, surrounded by his fans. If Papyrus didn’t want the robot to hear, then it was fine. He could do covert proposal ideas. “i can take us home tonight if you want to talk. if it’s important, there’s no need to stay here, right?”

Papyrus opened and closed his mouth, and then shook his head. He gripped his elbows over his ribs insecurely. Sans frowned at the gesture, unable to stop staring.

It was a bad sign.

“No, I… I would like to spend my free time with you tomorrow night.”

“oh.” What could possibly be bothering his brother? Proposal jitters?

Sweat gathered on his brother’s skull and Sans straightened his posture. He was missing something. There was something bothering Papyrus and he didn’t know what it was.

“T-That is, if you are also free, of course!” his brother tacked on hastily. Sans worried even further, but he didn’t let it show, knowing his brother needed him. “N-Not that I would tell you how to spend your free time! But I… I…”

“papyrus, relax. i’ll be there.”

His brother did relax, thought now there was unrestrained excitement vibrating in the air around him. Sans smiled, slowly.  “THANK YOU, SANS!”

“now, you know i really want to try some snail pie.” Sans paused, and then walked to his brother’s side. “shall we go in?” He gestured grandly towards the doors.

His brother’s sockets sparkled with magic. “OF COURSE! I WOULD NOT MISS IT FOR THE WORLD!”

 


	2. part two

The after-party in the kitchen was light and soothing, and the amount of monsters was less than the party room. Couches had been spread about, even the shiny, linoleum counters had little throw pillows and food had been gathered in the centre.

Alphys had been bothered that her shoes were hurting her and Undyne had went overboard, dragging several different couches and cushioned armchairs in the kitchen. Toriel had wanted her to bring them back where they came from until Sans climbed on one of them. Afterwards, Toriel allowed Undyne to arrange the seats near each other.

Sans was lounging on a couch beside his brother, already too tired to keep standing up. He’d dropped his head earlier on the armrest, blinking sleepily as their crowd of friends gathered around, laughing and giggling and discussing things that just made no sense in his sleepy mind.

Why was a raven like a writing desk? Was it because it was inky black? He really wasn’t sure what they were talking about. Also, a bread-and-butterfly sounded like an overreaching pun that fell short. He said as much, even if he was laughing at the name.

“Sans, would you like some hors d’oeuvres?” Toriel offered a tray of bite-sized snacks. She was wearing her queen dress, which, in his opinion, looked really good on her. Grillby had dressed accordingly and matched his bowtie to the shade of her eyes. “You seem like you have need of it!”

“thanks.” He grabbed one and gobbled it up, glad that it wasn’t mini pizzas again. The urge to pick out the toppings and eat them separately was a fun waste of time. The last time it happened, Toriel had called him a  _goblin_.

“Yo, you look like you’re going to fall asleep!”

“tired.”

“BROTHER, ARE YOU GOING TO FALL ASLEEP?”

“nope,” he yawned, rubbing his cheek on the armrest. He felt Papyrus’ hand pet his skull and nearly purred in contentment. “i’m awake.”

“Well, I would then like to thank everyone for helping the school,” Toriel announced with a happy smile. Grillby was standing beside her, like a silent  _flame_  of support. On the other side of the room, Asgore was looking at them with blatant discomfort and something that looked like longing. “They truly enjoyed our party! Our hard work and effort in preparing this event has been met with such enthusiasm and excitement.”

“This calls for a toast,” Asgore added. Sans watched with amusement as he squirmed under Toriel’s gaze. “I… I will be handing out the drinks.”

Off he went, scurrying like he was tinier than Sans, and then he came back just as quick, as though trying to appease Toriel’s fiery annoyance. He started handing out glasses from a tray. Several years hasn’t changed anything between the two of them.

“OH, NO ALCOHOLIC DRINKS FOR ME!” his brother exclaimed as Asgore tried to hand him alcohol. Sans had narrowed his gaze as Asgore looked on with confusion, a glass in his paw. “I WOULD LIKE TO HAVE A GLASS OF MILK INSTEAD!”

“Papyrus, why so?” Toriel inquired, her eye narrowed shrewdly. Oh no. “You’re already of magical age. Surely you would want to try even a little sip?”

“OH, ALCOHOL DOES NOT WORK FOR SKELETONS, MAGIC OR OTHERWISE!” Papyrus said. “SO, EVEN IF I AM ABLE TO INDULGE IN A DRINK, IT WOULD BE A WASTE TO DOWN IT WHEN SOMEONE ELSE CAN HAVE IT!”

“WHAT?!” Undyne exclaimed. “IS THAT WHY I HAVEN’T SEEN YOU STUMBLING YET?! I’VE BEEN HANDING YOU SPIKED DRINKS ALL NIGHT!”

_What?_

“ _undyne_ ,” Sans growled, startling the fish monster. Really, what if his brother had been susceptible to alcoholic drinks? That would get his brother into trouble!

“I… I didn’t know that.” Alphys perked up from beside Undyne in their loveseat. “Do you know why?”

Oh, boy.

Toriel’s gaze flitted over to him. “Sans?”

“yes,” he confirmed with a half-shrug, uncomfortable with the unnecessary attention. “while we do have a SOUL, we’re unable to process human alcohol through any physical means, and we can’t process the magic alcohol because of the different filters in a skeleton monster’s magi-physiology. we have a different frequency for inebriation, closer linked to our intrapersonal cognitive connections relating to interpersonal relationships, which could also render skeletons inactive unless prompted to act under a situational event where their magic is called for action.”

He paused, and then tallied up his mental notes.

“certain magical markers must be excluded in monster alcohol for a skeleton to become inebriated, and even then there must be a specialized magical structure that has to be included just to make it work. not to mention you would also need to be adept in forming the complex structure yourself, because the alcohol needs parameters that limit inhibition rate, liquid nuance and the density of magic, in comparison to the body ratio and the power level of the skeleton’s magic.”

“I WONDER WHAT THAT ALL MEANS…” Papyrus mused loudly. Sans turned his head to give his brother a questioning glance, and then he twisted back to their friends. His brother continued petting his skull.

“You lost me at the SOUL part,” Undyne said grumpily. Grillby nodded at Toriel’s side, while Toriel made a complex expression of befuddlement. Asgore, on the other hand, just handed Papyrus his glass of milk, probably having given up since the beginning.

At Alphys’ gaping, stupefied, expression, Sans winked lazily. “in short, it’s just like papyrus and i... we don’t have the  _guts_  for it.”

Toriel guffawed loudly, while Papyrus groaned miserably at his side. He mentally patted his back at the distraction. He wasn’t really going to allow them to dig more deeply than that. There were things he didn’t know personally on the topic. He’d never tried to drink, knowing he had an indulgent personality. That would be attracting trouble. Grillby’s fire crackled pleasantly, as though he was also laughing.

“Then, I suppose I don’t have to ask if you drink?” Toriel teased. “You are the only skeletons in the Underground, and by what you have said…”

Sans barked out a laugh, shaking his head. “just hand me some milk,” he said as he sat up, rolling his shoulders. “i’m not going to doze off any time soon.”

—

Later, after conversing with every monster he and his brother knew in the after-party, he’d slumped into his brother’s side on the couch, dozing off as his brother tugged him closer.

—

Toriel woke them up in the afternoon with fruit cups before she released them from the school. Undyne had sworn up and down that she had the best healing magic in the world, all because her magical intoxication had disappeared when Toriel healed her.

Sans didn’t have the heart to mention that there were other monsters besides the queen that could have healed her. He had gone home with Papyrus in his brother’s red convertible, a design that Sans had commissioned when he took that temporary monster ambassador status. Asgore had been running late because Frisk had a nightmare and he broke under the stress, and since Sans was the closest monster (taking shortcuts that no one knew)… Toriel had asked him to deal with it.

Those ambassadors really appreciated a good joke.

“SANS, HAVE YOU SEEN MY TIE?!”

“i looped it on the coat rack,” Sans replied, lazily flicking a hand to the wooden stand. It was the newest furniture they’d added in Sans’ house, so Sans used it the most for pranks. After all, it was the prime location to make Papyrus both panic and relax. It was a source of lost and found things. “keys on the holders and shoes where you left them.” And, there was a box of something special on the bottom of the stand.

When was the last time he’d gotten his brother a gift for no reason? He didn’t remember it, not even in the previous timelines. He had struggled against apathy, reserved his enjoyment within minimal parameters, and he had… done something about the RESETs.

“THANK YOU!” And there goes the relief in his brother’s voice. “BUT I ONLY NEEDED TO FIND THE TI…” There was a pause, and a short silence. “SANS, IS THIS…? OH MY GOD!”

Sans leaned back on the couch, glancing over. “hmm?”

“SANS, THIS IS A LIMITED EDITION CARBON-STEEL AND BLUE STEEL COOKWARE WITH…” There was a loud sound of paper being torn apart. “OH MY GOD!!! YOU ENGRAVED THE HANDLE WITH A SKELETAL DESIGN! AND!!  _MY NAME!!!_ ” his brother exclaimed with unbridled joy.

“do you like it?”

“I LOVE IT!!!”

He’d gotten the idea from Papyrus’ many skeleton stories, the pirate flags and his brother’s not-so-secret enjoyment of bone puns. “i saw it online and thought you’d like it. added the bones and personalized it for you.” Borrowing tools to make the design didn’t really cost anything.

Papyrus squealed excitedly, running towards him. Sans lost contact with the couch and got hoisted into a hanging-hug. He wheezed a chuckle. He really should have expected this. “THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU!!!  _I LOVE IT!!!_  I HAVE WANTED TO GET THIS SET, BUT THE SALESPERSON SAID THEY RAN OUT!”

Sans nuzzled his brother’s neck, sighing happily. Any hug he could get from Papyrus made him so happy. Papyrus gave really great hugs.

“you’re welcome, bro.”

He and MTT could bond in the kitchen with that. The robot was all about the brands, right? He could give this gift because something  _new_  happened.

Papyrus pulled away, but still held onto him. His smile was so bright and happy, and Sans noticed the excited rattling of his brother’s bones. It was endearing. “WHAT IS THE OCCASION?”

“what, can’t i give my bro gifts for no reason?” For a future wedding gift, this would be ideal.

“SANS, YOU’RE USUALLY OCCUPIED WITH A JOB TO BE THIS THOUGHTFUL!”

He shrugged, unwilling to let on his thoughts. “just thought you’d appreciate something like this after the dog stole your special pan.”

His brother’s expression melted into something so soft and happy. “THAT WAS THREE MONTHS AGO!”

“and you really wanted to try something special to add to tori’s menu, right?” Sans added, chuckling at the memory. Stars… that had been quite the chase. Annoying Dog had really bitten off more than he could chew. The dents had been quite the sight. Papyrus had been upset, so Sans had to find something to help straighten it. “he really had sharp  _canines_.”

“ARMED TO THE TEETH,” Papyrus added with a light laugh. Sans grinned.

“you could say he’s not all bark, and a lot of bite.”

“A DOG WITH A BONE!”

Sans chortled, wrapping his arms around his brother’s shoulders. His stylish brother wore a soft, cashmere sweater, something that felt good on his bones. It was blue, this time, instead of the creamy one from days ago. It looked good on him.

“WELL, I WILL BE HANDLING THE LAUNDRY BEFORE THE BLACKOUT HAPPENS. PLEASE FIND THE CANDLES—”

“it’s on the table.”

“AND THE UTENSI—”

“on the table,” Sans yawned.

“AND THE GLASS—”

“the table.”

“WHAT ABOUT THE FLASHLI—”

“table,” Sans repeated for the fourth time. “everything is on the table except for the cleaning products.”

Papyrus stared at him with narrowed sockets. “OH? YOU SEEM WELL-PREPARED, SANS,” he asked with blatant disbelief.

Sans nudge his brother pointedly, and his brother placed him down. He dusted his jacket and shrugged. “yeah. it’s been all over our chat room, so i figured i’ll get it done while i was in the storage room. you want me to light it up later?”

“OF COURSE. I HAVE ALSO EMPTIED THE FRIDGE OF PERISHABLES AND TRANSFERRED THEM TO—“

“snowdin. i got it, pap. you’ve been preparing all week for the your first black out.”

“I MUST MAKE SURE THAT EVERYTHING IS ALL ORGANIZED!” Papyrus stressed. Sans chuckled.

“you nearly watered the neighbour’s plants, bro. i think you’ve prepared everything you can prepare, even saving up water when it’s not even a water problem.”

“WOULD YOU—”

It was time to stop Papyrus from fretting. Sans grabbed his brother’s shoulder reassuringly. His brother was overthinking it again. “go and do your laundry, papyrus. everything is okay.”

His brother glanced around, gaze falling on the calendar with the encircled day. “IF YOU SAY SO…” he murmured.

“i say so.”

“THEN, I SHALL MEET YOU IN THE DINING ROOM TONIGHT,” said Papyrus. “PLEASE DRESS UP NICELY!”

_What?_

—

Sans shifted in his clothes awkwardly, glad he’d kept the silvery cabled turtleneck sweater Papyrus gave him last Gryftmas. It was something his brother had seen in a store somewhere near Ebott, proclaiming that it would look good on him. Along with it came Toriel’s gift – a fancy hooded-jacket with the  _necessary_  pockets, made completely of monster-crafted faux black leather. He’d exchanged his shorts with the pants Grillby gave him two years ago as some odd bribe to date his best punbuddy, and for his shoes were a pair of shiny shoes that he’d rushed to buy to look presentable at the ambassador meeting.

The dining room was dim with candles that he’d lit up, spread across cupboards and the table. Papyrus had dressed up their table with some fancy satin sheet, the plates and utensils already set on the table.

It looked too serious for asking permission to marry MTT.

He grabbed an album from one of the closest shelf and sat down on a chair, flipping through the pages and smiling as he realized he’d grabbed the one from several hundred years ago, back when his brother was still a baby bones. They were special, magical photos… something only monsters could see. Their father had been so highly advanced, and their origins… Well, their father always mentioned having lived far beyond the stars, between the spaces of darkness and time. The closest beings to their SOUL properties had been the monsters, so dad had found a way to transfer to their world.

He made Sans, and then he made Papyrus. Gods, when Papyrus had been  _born_ … It was the best day of his life. His brother was… he looked… it was amazing.

So enchanted with everything, Papyrus went anywhere that he wanted to be. He had climbed cabinets to see from high places, and he had curled inside Sans’ ribs to take his naps, and sometimes he’d slept on the table with his head cushioned with a plate of giant marshmallows. In each one Sans was inside the photo, baby bones Papyrus would be staring at him like he had the sun shining from his SOUL.

Papyrus had always cried whenever he went to school. When Sans came home, Papyrus would cry in relief. He’d never let go until the next morning, so Sans had no choice but to bring him along. It was fortunate that his schoolmates adored Papyrus. But there were times Papyrus had been… territorial. He didn’t want anyone unfamiliar encroaching his and Sans’ territory. He’d thrown sullen looks at anyone who spoke to them, soothed only if Sans held him close…

He missed Papyrus, and yet his brother was only just a few steps away, getting dressed in his room. It wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling. If Papyrus was elsewhere, there would be an empty space, and Sans could feel that empty space  _deeply_. It wasn’t the kind of space he enjoyed.

He sent the album through a shortcut, careful to keep it closed. If he touched one of the images stuck on the magical page, it would have dragged him into a memory of the event.

His brother was all grown up now, and he didn’t need Sans anymore. He’d overgrown the fanatical admiration for Mettaton. There wasn’t anything of Mettaton’s in his brother’s room, only the storybooks from the Underground and his figurine collection. No race-car bed because he already had the car. If Papyrus married Mettaton, it wasn’t because of some infatuation. It was because of something else. As long as his brother was happy…

Footsteps interrupted his reminiscing. He looked up just as Papyrus entered through the doorway, mouth nearly falling open from shock at his brother’s attire. He’d chosen to wear a white dress-shirt with long sleeves, covered by a dark coat jacket that was unbuttoned. He wore black pants and black shoes, and really, why did his brother even bother to get… dressed like that? Where were his vivid colours? Why was he carrying both of the—?

“Sans, could you help me with this tray, please?”

Sans hurried to his brother’s side, stealing one of the trays to free his brother’s hand. “where do you want it?”

Stars, whatever he cooked smelled utterly delicious. He always thanked his stars that Papyrus took cooking classes.

“The centre of the table, right beside the flower.”

Flower? Sans turned and walked to the table, noticing the single white rose in the tall vase. Sans racked his head for flower language, and then remembered white for flowers signified purity and innocence. That, or Papyrus was trying to convey that roses were layers of love, hope and compassion… It was also a symbol of weddings.

He placed the tray on the table and grabbed the covered dish, placing it on the centre of their square table. He threw another glance at his brother. Papyrus placed more covered food on the table, unhurried and calm. He’d forgone wearing an apron, which was unusual.

Did his brother really have to dress up for something like this? This was…  _new_.

Once the preparations were done, he and his brother sat across from each other, unfolding napkins and placing them on their laps like they were in a fancy restaurant. Papyrus had uncovered their food seconds ago and said their names, but Sans’ mind was preoccupied, wondering what his brother wanted with him tonight.

“so, uh, what did you say you needed to talk to me about?”

“Let us eat first,” Papyrus firmly said, and then he suddenly appeared vulnerable under the glow of the candlelight. He looked much like a younger skeleton, clutching onto his utensils like it would save him from something. “And… tell me if you like the food. Please.”

Sans grabbed a fork and speared something green.

Sans’ verdict: everything tasted delicious, scrumptious and delectable.

Sans didn’t know what exactly made his brother insecure of his cooking. He felt fully healed, and somehow he also felt like he could carry three boulders in one hand. Did his brother’s magic evolve? The magic in the food… it felt like Papyrus infused it with specific power boosts.

If some dirty lowlife slandered his brother’s cooking, he would find them and dunk them… in pranks.

His brother eyed him with apprehension, like he was expecting the worst. His fingers tapped a rhythm on the tabletop, clearly waiting for an answer and hesitant to hear it.

“it’s all great, pap,” he said softly, reaching out to stop the tap-tap-tapping of his brother’s distal phalanges. The hand relaxed under his touch, and Sans felt something flare up in his soul as it did so. “now, it’s not like you to drag this all out. what’s wrong?”

Papyrus turned over his hand, intertwining their fingers. A spark of magic bolted down Sans’ spine and he gasped sharply, eyelights locked onto Papyrus’ sockets.

“I… I HAVE RECEIVED A PROMOTION!”

Oh!

Sans’ soul lightened with pride. Of course! How could he have forgotten? “that’s great, pap!” he breathed happily.

Papyrus’ expression fell. “But Sans, it happened on the same day that they released the Monster Workers’ Act. They could not actually mean it! Perhaps it is only for the additional coins they would receive from the crown, not because of my skill and hard work.”

Oh. Oh, Papyrus… He hadn’t mentioned this in the last timeline. What  _changed_?

“maybe that gave them the excuse to fully make you their head chef,” Sans voiced gently, almost whispering the words. “you know the manager really likes you. said that you’re better than most of the chef in his kitchen.”

Papyrus leaned forward. “Do… Do you think so, brother?” Stars, he seemed so hopeful and  _sad_ , like he didn’t want Sans to be wrong.

“no bones about it, bro,” Sans confirmed, trying to sound soothing. “you’re the best chef they have. did you see the reviews they have at your restaurant? they have a lot of nice things to say about you.” Sometimes it wasn’t nice, but he ignored those people.

He always checked to make sure the place was reputable. If it hadn’t been a popular destination for intermingling humans and monsters, he would have moved them away somewhere close to a different establishment with better reputation.

“You… You read those?” Papyrus asked shakily, almost sounding relieved.

“when it comes to you, there’s nothing that i won’t read.” Sans had never touched his brother’s journals, though. It was one thing to bother his brother on the UnderNet, and another to snoop through his brother’s private thoughts.

“Thank you, Sans. You don’t know how much your words lessen my worries.” Papyrus beamed, and it calmed Sans immediately. His brother withdrew slowly, and then he grabbed something from underneath the table cloth, holding it out to Sans. “So, I… I brought this for tonight.”

It was a familiar wine bottle, one that should still be in Snowdin.

Sans paled at the sight. “papyrus, did you take that from snowdin?” he asked, horrified. He’d left it at… oh. Oh… no.

Oh gods, his brother had just been buttering him up! It wasn’t about his promotion at all!

“Yes,” Papyrus admitted guiltily, as if he wasn’t holding skeleton intoxicant in his hand. Sans should have had thrown the bottle out when they lived underground. “I was… I mean… I… I’m sorry, brother, but I… For once…” His brother struggled, visibly remorseful and yet determined. “I… I wanted to… drink? I want to share drinks with you.”

“ah.”  _No._  Why? Why would his brother want to drink after all the explanations Sans had given him?

Papyrus wilted under his gaze. “Are you mad?” his brother asked in a small voice. Sans’ soul clenched at the guilty, pleading look that his brother gave him.

It felt like an a _cute_  strike to his core.

Sans sighed in defeat and stood up, placing his chair beside his brother’s seat. Papyrus glanced up at him, sockets doleful and begging. “no,” he said, trying not to sound curt.

“So, will you… drink… with me, brother?”

Sans swallowed his fears, staring his brother down. What in the world was his brother doing? Why would he…?

Did it even matter? What was one bottle of skeleton intoxicant when it won’t even matter in the end? That should be a celebration, right? Soon, he’d finally never experience a RESET. No more running around and watching over the kid, no more murders, no more of the stupid scripts… There would finally be a  _true_  end.

He sighed. “okay,” he said carefully, eyeing his brother. “but, i’m the one that’ll pour it out. get the glasses.” His brother had used flutes for milkshakes. He should have known…

Papyrus followed his instructions obediently, his face unchanging of uncertainty. Sans uncorked the bottle with his magic. Little driblets of moisture streamed down the sides. It had been iced by his brother, but it didn’t need it. His hands trembled as he poured a finger’s worth of skeleton alcohol in each glass, a skill that he learned from watching Grillby’s many bartending sessions. He set the bottle on the table, corking it back, uneasy of what they were about to do.

“Is this the right amount?” his brother asked quietly, taking a glass and swirling the liquid.

“the mix you found is good for one and a half, so this isn’t much,” he explained quietly, grabbing the remaining flute. He stared at the silvery liquid, similar to the appearance of mercury, but more  _magic_  and more liquid. It wasn’t heavy liquid metal, but it did appear dense. “you need to get used to the magical density… this one was... dadster…” He couldn’t say it.

“What is it, Sans?”

Sans glanced up at this brother. “he made this with us in mind,” he murmured, scenting the bouquet of the drink. It was something Gaster had made for… He shook his head. “it’s going to be strong, somehow.”

“So, this drink is…” It seemed as though Papyrus didn’t want to continue. Sans wondered if Papyrus sensed his hesitance in the topic. “It is for us?”

“yeah,” he replied hoarsely. He cleared his throat. “so, uh, toast?”

Papyrus smiled, finally, and then offered his glass forward. Their glasses met without effort and Sans took a sip, feeling the magic immediately. It was a slow, unhurried stream of heat, warming his magic and soothing his nerves. Magic gathered on his cheeks in semblance of a blush, bringing with it a hazy spark. It tasted like beautiful memories.

Gaster made it well. He’d said it was more powerful than the one he’d made for himself, but it wasn’t  _that_  intoxicating. It was a gift for any future celebrations. It… didn’t seem as extreme as Sans expected it to be. Perhaps the RESETs helped, or the boost in his power levels.

“OH!” his brother gasped. “It’s warm!” Papyrus stared at his glass in surprise. “I know you said it was an intoxicant, but I had not expected the intricacy of its taste!” He sounded really excited about it.

Sans’ magic started heating up and he laughed quietly, already feeling a little warmer. “yeah. that’s the magical markers that make it more attractive to us. when you were younger, dadster and i made a list of monster foods that you liked. we had you taste-test everything, and we designed a taste marker for you. and then, dadster got this idea into his head to make something like alcohol for us. he had to drink and experience a lot of embarrassing moments before i agreed to a formula. this formula has both our markers.”

His brother paused, and Sans faltered. He… hadn’t meant to reveal any of that. Was the intoxicant working quickly?

“I… see.” No, he and Papyrus knew he wasn’t seeing anything.

“so, uh, what else is new?” he asked quickly. Was it just him, or was it getting… hot? Was it hot, or just plain, pleasantly warm? He really didn’t know the difference. He toyed with his turtleneck, dragging it by the rim to release some of the heat he was imagining. “besides the promotion, i heard the board of tori’s school wants a new chef and you turned it down.”

Papyrus perked up. “Oh! Yes, the Lady Toriel wanted me to cook for them, but I declined. I wanted to work in a restaurant.”

Sans didn’t have to think it over. “i’m glad you turned it down,” he said honestly. He couldn’t imagine his brother flourishing in that environment. “you’re really skilled. i can’t see you being a chef there. you’re more independent than that.”

“You offered me a job at the hotel you worked in,” Papyrus pointed out, and Sans could only wonder if it was the intoxicant that made him sound so utterly fond. Papyrus didn’t like nepotism, really. No wonder he turned down all his friends’ references.

“i didn’t want you to accept. i just wanted to make you  _laugh_.”

 _Oh gods_. Sans closed his sockets in embarrassment, now realizing that the intoxicant was working. He stole a glance at his brother’s curious gaze, and then averted his eyelights.

“Is that true?”

“yeah,” he confirmed, flustered of his loose mouth. Why couldn’t he just have kept his teeth shut? That would be easier. “i can’t stand seeing you unhappy.” Truth had never felt this good to say, though...

_‘passing out now would be great.’_

His brother’s cheeks glowed with magic. There was a contemplative smile on his face. “That’s an endearingly sweet thought, brother.”

Sans shrugged, playing with the wine glass in his hand. “thanks, i guess.” He couldn’t hide his flush of magic if he could.

They talked more about Papyrus’ new promotion, and then talked about Sans’ job. His brother didn’t understand how well he was doing with his ever-changing jobs. Sans didn’t really want to tell him the truth about that, so he pretended not to understand Papyrus’ questioning gaze.

“How is it that you go from a hotel clerk to a temporary manager of a small business?”

“maybe they like skeletons a lot?”

Papyrus scowled at him playfully. “You turn out to be the employee of the month before you change jobs!”

“hey,” Sans protested, “that was one time! and, for your information, mr. employee-of-the-year, we had the ambassadorial tour, remember? we didn’t have a surface house yet. we changed countries each month to find a place!”

His brother’s bones relaxed again. “You chose the perfect place,” Papyrus replied, as if trying to pacify him.

It worked.

Sans’ shoulders dropped from its defensive position and he chuckled. “yeah, you couldn’t stop staring at the balcony when we got it. you said it was the perfect place to hang your flag.”

The pirate flag had been there for six years… sort of. Papyrus washed it frequently.

Conversation after conversation and they drank more of the magical drink. Papyrus mentioned that his magic was getting used to the drink, and Sans still felt warmer than usual. But when he took a quick glance at his makeshift spoon mirror, he wasn’t that flushed, and he didn’t have sweat on his bones. He wasn’t supposed to  _feel_  heat, but he knew the drink had warming properties to mimic regular monster alcohol.

Sans suddenly had a very important question. “hey, pap…”

“Hmm?” Papyrus blinked owlishly at him, smiling. He was blushing so sweetly.

“do you… want to… watch the stars tonight?” Sans struggled to say the words, as if his magic was too heavy. The temperature wasn’t unbearable. It felt so nice, like a warm magic bath. Temperature didn’t affect him, not unless magic was involved. This was a nice nap under sunshine.

Papyrus’ excitement was palpable as he dragged Sans upstairs to the balcony. Papyrus brought along their glasses and the bottle in one hand. Sans had to swipe the telescope on their way to the balcony because Papyrus was too excited to stop.

The balcony offered them a beautiful view of the sky. Without much light, they could see some of the stars in the open space. Sans sat close to his brother, pointing out what stars he recognized and how far and bright it was. The words fell easy from his mouth. He’d read so much about them in the past.

Even if Papyrus wasn’t deeply interested in stars, there was a sparkle in his socket that showed how much he enjoyed learning something new. His brother had always been such a curious baby bones. It didn’t change now that he was more grown. Papyrus might have no use for it, but Sans thought he would probably retain the knowledge. Maybe it would be good for trivia nights at Toriel’s place.

He wasn’t sure how it happened, but he was coerced to the living room by his brother between his narration of quasars and pulsars. He’d been tempted with soft, fluffy cushions. They walked their way back into the dim rooms. The candles helped  _light_  the way.

“SANS, YOU’RE SAYING YOUR HORRIBLE PUNS OUT LOUD AGAIN!!!”

“sorry, bro.”

He took the couch, tossing his shoes and socks away so he could dig his bony feet on the cushion and lean his head on the armrest. Papyrus copied him, although he was neat about it, folding his socks away and arranging his shoes at the side of the couch, and then he sat on the opposite end, facing Sans.

He finally allowed his brother to fill his glass, but chuckled when his brother fumbled with the cork. “well, now i know you’ve never handled monster alcohol on your own.”

Papyrus did the skeletal equivalent of a pout. “How did you know to remove the cork, then?”

Sans’ smile dropped a little and he leaned back on the armrest, swirling the magic intoxicant in his glass. “well, i drank with other monsters before. it doesn’t work on me, of course, but they think it does.” It earned him a lot of gold, when monsters got playful.

His brother was frowning. “But why would you drink if it does not work at all? Surely they would understand the reason.”

“i didn’t want anyone to know about it,” he murmured absentmindedly, tracing the rim of his glass with a single finger. He looked up at his brother lazily, smirking. “it’s fun when they think you’re unbeatable in drinking games. had to pretend losing a couple of times, but it made things more interesting.”

“Why would you not want anyone to know?” his brother asked in confusion.

Sans hesitated. “it’s private info, bro. i don’t share things like that with anyone but you.”

Papyrus blinked at him, and then glanced at his own glass, a thoughtful expression on his face. “I suppose it does seem private.”

Sans nudged him with a foot, smiling when his brother nudged him back. “just make sure no one else knows that we have a drink like this, okay? i don’t want to drink this at grillby’s or any other party. i’m never doing this again.”

He wouldn’t have enough time, anyway. This was one way to be open with Papyrus, but it wasn’t ideal.

“Would it be okay… if it is only the two of us?” his brother said in a small voice. It was so tempting to agree, but Sans was sceptical. It wasn’t a good idea at all… He wasn’t going to agree to this.

Sans sighed. “papyrus, i just said—”

Papyrus hurriedly added, “I want to share things like this with you!”

Sans paused, and then he downed a mouthful of his drink. He wasn’t sure why Papyrus would insist on this. It wasn’t something his brother had done in any of the timelines. This was the first time he would be drinking anything that could make him lose control, and  _with_   _his brother in the same room_. It was  _dangerous_.

“why?” he finally asked after a moment. He didn’t understand. His brother was someone who avoided Grillby’s for the grease. But apparently, an intoxicating drink shared between brothers was  _okay_.

His brother fidgeted with his drink. Sans waited patiently. Sometimes his brother needed time to come up with answers. He took another nervous sip, also worried he wouldn’t like his brother’s reply.

“I want to bond with you,” his brother said with all the sincerity in his bones.

Sans nearly spat out his drink. “ _what?!_ ” he choked, clutching his glass closer to shield himself from his brother’s words.

“OH MY GOD, THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT!” Papyrus blurted, as if he realized what he had accidentally implied, hands fluttering around like he was trying to erase what he’d just admitted. He was blushing. His brother didn’t get embarrassed like this often. “I-I didn’t— I didn’t mean – No, Sans, that’s not what I – I meant brotherly bonding!”

Sans warily eyed his brother. “you sure, bro? ‘cause it sounded like you were talking about the serious stuff.”

“No, I…” Papyrus sighed, and then placed his glass on the coffee table. Sans timidly copied him. “I just want to spend more time with you. Speak with you in a serious manner… with  _conversations_.”

“we have those every day,” Sans pointed out, the doubt dissipating.

“No, we don’t,” his brother said firmly. “I have talked with Undyne about anything and everything, and yet when I try to think of anything personal  _relating_  to you, I have no clue!”

Sans snorted. “you know things, bro.”

“Oh? And do I even  _know_  your favourite movie? No, because I have never heard you mention it, and I remember  _almost_  everything about you!”

Sans tried to think up of a movie, but he didn’t really care to have favourites. “don’t have favourites, bro.” Just thinking of science fiction that showcase time travel theories made him cringe.

“See?” his brother emphasized with a grand gesture of his hands. “I know nothing personal about you!”

Sans shrugged, hunching over. “err, what else?” he asked quietly, toying with his sleeve. Really? He thought he’d been an open book to his brother. Papyrus had never asked him about things like this, so Sans just assumed he wasn’t interested in knowing anything. He had stopped telling Papyrus about how his days went, long ago.

His brother lifted his head to the ceiling, as if trying to come up with a better question. “Well, I have asked Undyne how old she was, and she said a few hundred years! I, curiously enough, do not know how old you really are!” Papyrus looked at him expectantly.

Sans sweated magic immediately, caused by a nerve-wracking fear that his mouth would admit something impossible. “i’m older than her by hundreds, pap.”

“And exactly how many years?” Papyrus asked slowly, frowning.

Sans glanced away. “uh. dunno the exact number,” he said, relieved that he didn’t know his exact age anymore. At Papyrus’ incredulous look, he added, “saw undyne as a kid, though.”

“I did not know that you are older than Undyne,” his brother softly said, a hint of awe in his voice.

“you haven’t asked,” Sans said, thinking about it. No, his brother never really asked. He’d remember it, if he did. “anything else? is that it?”

“Hmm… What place in the Underground do you like best?”

“uh.” He’d never really thought about it. Where did he like spending most of his time? “our house.”

Papyrus laughed. “Your room?” his brother teased.

Sans grinned. “yeah.” That made sense, didn’t it? His room was a dump, but it was  _his_  room.

“What else…?” his brother murmured. Papyrus’ smile turned mischievous, which didn’t bode well for him. Sans tensed. “Who is your favourite monster?”

Oh. That was easy.

“you,” he said lowly and predictably. Was that even a proper question when they both knew that he thought of Papyrus as the coolest monster in the Underground? “that’s not a really mystery, isn’t it? everyone will always know you’re my favourite when i give you my undivided attention as soon as you talk.”

The sudden blush on Papyrus’ face surprised him. It was a stronger glow, something… not from the intoxicant, maybe?

“Oh.”

“what’s with that tone?” Sans asked, amused to see his brother’s shy, pleased smile. Papyrus pressed his fingers together, like he was trying to come up with an answer. “didn’t you know this already? don’t know why i have to repeat this. even jerry knows you’re my favourite and he’s not even our friend.”

“I… I had thought, perhaps, that you would…” his brother trailed off, and that had Sans paying attention more closely. “I thought you would say the Lady Toriel is your favourite.”

Sans snickered. “stars, that would be strange, right?” he murmured. “i know you longer.”

His brother looked at him with curious sockets. “But you have met the Lady Toriel and you said you liked her puns!”

“i like you the  _best_ , papyrus. next question.” His brother’s reaction pleased him, really. He just wasn’t sure why.

Blushing, his brother continued. “How many jobs have you had?”

Now  _that_  was a little difficult. “don’t know the exact count, papyrus, but it’s a lot. next.”

“Where did we live, before Snowdin?”

Sans froze, mouth falling open to answer, “the capital.” He hadn’t really expected to answer this in a long, long time.

Papyrus gasped. “We lived in the capital?!”

Sans winced at the look his brother gave him. Was it really that important? “yeah. we still have a house there. it’s under my name…”

“ _Really?!_ ”

“uh huh.” Gaster’s name wasn’t on it.  _That_  was sure.

“Could we go visit sometime?”

“maybe.” Hopefully not. “next?”

It continued on, with his brother asking really weird questions that Sans hadn’t ever contemplated before. His favourite colour? He wasn’t really sure. There were many colours in the world that could be his favourite. His favourite musician? He wasn’t really sure, again. He liked a variety to keep it interesting. Best ones were wordless soundtracks. His first pet? The pet rock. Food? Anything with tomatoes in it. Height? Weight?

Favourite kitchen cleaner…? ( _What_?) Animal? Fabric? Plastic???

_Everything else under the sun and ground?_

“papyrus, i’m running out of things that  _i_ know about me,” Sans replied, slightly winded by the speed of Papyrus’ questions. Half of them, he didn’t even know.

His brother frowned.

“can’t you ask something that i’d surely know?” Sans pleaded, hoping there was something he could give that wasn’t, ‘i’m not sure’. “because most of what you ask me is pretty much something that i haven’t measured, chosen, or even  _thought_  about.”

His brother placed a hand underneath his mandible. “Well,” his brother began ever so slowly, “I know that Undyne’s first kiss is Alphys. But who is  _your_  first kiss, brother?”

Sans immediately regretted everything as a blush infused his bones. “uh.” Sweat gathered on his skull. He knew the answer. He knew it  _very well_.

Papyrus’ sockets narrowed deliberately. “Sans?”

“isn’t that a little private?” he squeaked, fiddling with the seams of his jacket. Oh god, if his brother found out…

Papyrus straightened up and weighed him down with a heavy stare. “SANS.”

“i…” Sans struggled not to admit it, to stop the words. “i have no first kiss.” He relaxed. At least it wasn’t the real answer.

His brother’s mouth twitched into a smile. “Sans, it is not a shame to say that you have no first kiss.”

It wasn’t for that reason, really, but he’d go along with it.

“yeah, i know. i—” Sans shut his mouth, biting down the words. No, he shouldn’t. That was a  _very bad_  idea. “i know it’s nothing to be ashamed about,” he forced out.  _Oh, thank gods_. That was better than what he’d been about to say.

“To be honest, I would have thought you’d say that Lady Toriel is your first kiss,” Papyrus admitted.

Sans couldn’t help it and barked out a laugh. “stars,  _no_. i promised that my first k—” he stopped abruptly, paling.

Oh boy.

That wasn’t supposed to come out.

“What?”

“n-n-nothing, bro,” he stammered unconvincingly. Papyrus stared at him. “uh. just. promised things, you know? hah hah hah…” Sans tried to find the words, but it wasn’t anywhere near substantial. “i mean, i promise you, it wouldn’t be tori.”

“So it would be someone else, then?” his brother asked, striking right through his fumbling and straight to the matter. Of all the times to be perceptive…

_Oh boy._

Sans struggled not to say anything, but the liquid… stars, what was in that drink?

“n… yes?” he admitted. Defeated by some liquid intoxicant. Gaster would’ve had never let him live this down.

His brother looked at him expectantly.

Sans looked away and said, “i promised my first kiss to someone, okay? that’s why i haven’t, uh…” he swallowed and continued, “kissed anyone else.”

Papyrus gasped. “Sans, when you make promises—”

Sans cut him off. “i know, bro. you don’t have to say it.” The less said about it, the better.

“But Sans—”

“i don’t break promises, papyrus,” Sans sighed, rubbing a hand at the back of his skull. The warmth was good in his sternum. He turned back to his brother, grimacing. No use in stopping Papyrus once his mind was made up. “not unless… certain things come up to change the situation.” Like a murder spree.

“Sans, you have  _promised_  your first kiss away!” Papyrus cried out. Sans winced, rubbing his sternum and avoiding Papyrus’ distraught gaze. “If you somehow managed to get kissed by someone else,  _you will get hurt!_  You  _promised_.”

Actually, he would dust so quickly that pain wouldn’t even be possible. It happened to him before, the  _dusting_. He’d tested it in one of the timelines and made up for it in the next timeline, making sure to relieve his SOUL of the karma that was crawling over him in confusion. It had probably wondered why he’d broken a PROMISE. He’d become a healer in that timeline, with everyone oblivious to his true work.

“and that’s why i don’t drink with anyone,” Sans answered instead, glad for the reason and the truth in his words. “so, uh, any accidental kissing doesn’t happen.” Nearly got smooched by Drunk Bun before, but he’d managed to sidestep and watch them fall into Red Bird.

“Your promises have weird karmic drawbacks!” complained his brother.

“i know.” Sans took off his jacket, wondering if Toriel’s gift was the cause of the heat in his magic. “so… next question.”

His brother stared at him pleadingly and Sans met his gaze, equally unwilling to back down. Papyrus sighed.

“If you say so, then I believe you, brother.”

“pap…”

“As for my next question… Where do you work right now?”

Sans chuckled. “three jobs, papyrus. a nightshift cashier at the grocery store, a temporary accountant for tori, and then i sell my security services to kids for ketchup packets.”

“ _SANS!_ ”

Sans giggled mischievously. “it’s true!”

Papyrus sighed exasperatedly.

Papyrus continued asking him personal questions, some that bordered on invasive (but not in the way Sans had ever imagined – Papyrus asked about his fangs and opened his mouth), and some that bordered on confusing (favourite curtains that they owned).

After the bottle was emptied by the two of them, his brother was already mellowed-out and quiet. Sans, on his side of the couch, had discovered that he didn’t know anything about himself but the fact he had a habit of not picking favourites. And that he really liked science. And that he really knew more about his brother than himself.

It wasn’t a horrible bonding moment like he thought. He’d imagined horrible things happening. He wasn’t completely in control of himself or his magic, but Papyrus seemed…

Papyrus seemed like he was making sure that nothing would go wrong for this night, and it made him feel safer that his brother was looking out for him.

The chiming of Sans’ phone interrupted a conversation about, weirdly enough, dishwashing. He clumsily grabbed the device from his pocket and shut off the alarm. He stared at his phone, mind a little hazy. What was the alarm about…?

“oh.”

“Oh…?” his brother murmured, gazing at him with half-lidded sockets and magic-flushed cheekbones. He looked comfortably relaxed, unlike his usual lively self. Bones were loose without that tension of alertness. He also looked like he was the most introspective monster in the Underground. “What… is it, Sans?”

Sans blinked sleepily at his hands. “i think that was the alarm for the blackout being done,” he mumbled.

Papyrus’ face fell, obviously disappointed. “Really?”

“yeah.” Sans looked down at his glass, and then at the empty bottle. He still felt perfectly fine. For Papyrus… he didn’t seem as energetic. “so, uh, you want to get the antidote?” he asked Papyrus.

“This has an  _antidote_?” his brother blurted incredulously before raising his own glass and narrowed his sockets at it.

“it’s an intoxicant,” Sans pointed out. “this only works with us, and it’s a bad idea to give this to other monsters.”

“And if we allow it to fade on its own?”

“well, you’ll wake up feeling really funny,” Sans replied after a thought, remembering how Gaster had looked uncomfortably stiff after a night’s sleep. His magic had become sensitive to other magic, like it washed away all experience. Sans had spent weeks in finding an antidote. It faded on its own, but it took a while. His dad had been a willing experiment for antidotes. “probably not good to wait it out if you want to move around tomorrow.”

“The antidote, please.”

It was easy to obtain the glass vial from his lab. A little unnecessary flick of his wrist and he grabbed it with his magic through a smaller version of his shortcut.

He handed it over, reflexively saying, “just a few drops, pap.” Too much and it would be really bad.

Papyrus uncapped it and made a happy face as he tasted it, pulling away the bottle immediately. “That tasted similar to milk!”

Sans blushed. “we didn’t have anything else for flavouring, papyrus.” It had been tomatoes, milk or hydrochloric acid. They hadn’t really expected to need flavouring. He had to choose the milk – Gaster had his eyes on the hydrochloric acid.

“Then you chose the right flavour.”

Papyrus handed the vial back and Sans took a sip. His thoughts gently cleared, the grogginess retreating and yet the warmth still remained. It still tasted the same as it did before, just when he tasted it the first time. He was lucky it wasn’t only monster food that didn’t spoil in the Underground. Anything monster-made had an infinite lifespan.

“I will start cleaning up,” Papyrus announced with his usual cheerfulness as he stood up. Sans eyed the vial dubiously. The antidote worked fast, if Papyrus was back to his usual self.

“do you need me to do anything?” Sans had to ask. He was the one who placed the candles everywhere, after all. He could pick some of them on his way up. “open the lights, maybe?” he added, unsure. To be honest, the lighting looked beautiful, and he appreciated the way it flickered when they both moved even a little. It was a nice night to stay inside the house and share moments like this.

“I think I’ll leave the house dark as it is,” his brother whispered, smiling at him. “I want to enjoy the remaining traces of the blackout. I will make sure to clean everything else afterward.”

“you sure?”

“Yes, Sans.” Papyrus paused, glancing over him and giving him a quick check. “You look tired,” he murmured thoughtfully. “Perhaps a good night’s rest will do you well. Off to bed, brother.”

Sans smiled back, soul full of gratefulness for his brother’s concern. “okay, bro,” he whispered back. “i’ll be in my room.” He did feel tired, but so warm from the intoxicant. Hopefully he’d have a nice rest.

“Goodnight, brother. I hope you have pleasant dreams!”

“g’night, papyrus…” he murmured back, waving and yawning as he walked to his room.

The moment his body hit the bed, he was out like a light.

Heh.


	3. part three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is where you find the smut.

He was chasing starlight, wisps of light flowing away from him. It went further and further away each step he took. That warmth, that light…

In a second, it disappeared. The warmth.

It was so cold, so alone – there wasn’t anything in this darkness but warmth that had no meaning. It was a useless sensation, something so utterly unnecessary. It was a horrible, terrible loneliness. He was all alone. No matter how much he shouted, huddled in his empty little space, no one answered. No one came. No one remembered.

The gaping abyss consumed more of this world. There was no one here but him. In the darkness, hiding, waiting, searching for… someone. To help? To harm? To  _kill_?

When did it end?

Where was it? What was it? Something was missing. There should be someone here, with him. Where was he? What was he? Where did he go? Why did he leave?

What happened?

 _Death_ , the link. Lights snuffed in the Underground. There was one… Someone… he was…  _starlight_ … star _dust_.

_Dust…? Wha—_

_No…_

_NO!_

_No, no, no, no, no!_

_He was gone. He was gone…!_

He sobbed his name. He cried for help.

But nobody came. No one whispered back. No one reached out from the dark.

_He was gone, he was gone, hewasgonehewasgone—!_

He shouted louder.

“ _PAPYRUS!!!_ ”

No one… No one…

_He was gone._

Nobody came…

“ _papyrus_ …”

_He was gone!_

Nobody came.

“ _papyrus…_ ”

_The darkness wanted to swallow him whole._

_STARLIGHT._

Brilliant light shrouding him, caging him. He cried harder, trembling, pure relief bursting in his magic.

He wasn’t alone. Somebody came. Someone important. His starlight.  _Starlight, starlight, starlight_ , his SOUL called out. He was shaking, bones rattling. He needed him. He needed him so much! He needed to—

“ _pa… pyrus_ ,” he called out weakly, but it was as if he was talking with only a handful of magic to support his voice, words distorted by his lack of strength. He tried again, whispering, “ _p-papyrus_.”

The light reached out.

Hands cradled his skull, wiping away his tears. Whispers of his name sweetly brushed his skull. There was a familiar scent grounding him, calming his soul. Arms embraced him, holding him, loving him.

There was no more darkness, so he let go. He reached into his SOUL to call out, scared that his light would leave. He didn’t want his light to leave. He didn’t want to leave his starlight.

The familiar SOUL answered with a gentle pulse of surprise. Curious emotions reached out, tentatively seeking him. It filled his senses with safety.

He knew this light. Knows it.

Love so intense surged from his SOUL in a desperate attempt to greet the light, tinged with fear that it wouldn’t be expressed ever again. He didn’t want to say goodbye. He didn’t want to die. He wanted… He…

He was…

He wasn’t—

“ _Sans…_ ”

He wasn’t alone anymore, and it wasn’t cold or empty or dusty. He was surrounded by light and warmth. Affection. Awe. Love.

_He was warm, so warm. Warm ,warm, warm…_

—

Sans slowly woke up from what felt like a sweet dream, blinking groggily to the sight of his brother’s pajamas. He snuggled comfortably against Papyrus. Stars, he felt so  _good_. It must have been a really good dream.

“papyrus?” he slurred absently. His fingers trailed over the white skulls printed on his brother’s blue pajamas, taking in the smooth texture of the cloth. He noted the darker blue shade of his blanket, and then the extra blue blanket on top. He was in his bed… and Papyrus was also in his bed. Papyrus must have also brought his blanket and… wait…

Why was Papyrus in his bed? What was he doing in Sans’ room? Did he have a nightmare?

He glanced at his dozing brother, noting that there didn’t seem to be anything amiss.

Sans sighed and dropped his head back, too tired to fully question Papyrus’ strange appearance in his bed. He glanced up, careful not to jostle his brother’s arms. His brother was still asleep and was holding him close. So close that there was barely any space left between them, legs tangled underneath the blankets and perhaps every bone touching.

He slowly tried to pull away. He wasn’t really sure why, but he felt really awkward about this. Papyrus suddenly held him more firmly, a small whine of protest escaping his dozing brother. Sans froze, and then realized that Papyrus was still asleep. He laughed quietly, patting his brother’s side to let him know he was awake. When Papyrus didn’t budge or wake up, he eased his arms around his brother, resigned to being snuggled warmly.

“Mmm… Sans…”

“papyrus, are you awake?” he asked in a whisper. He tried to look up, but he was tucked so close that he couldn’t do anything else but plant his face on his brother’s neck.

Papyrus didn’t reply, so San figured he was still asleep, just herding him between the wall and a bundle of bones. Heh. Cute.

Sans then noticed the rays of light peeking from behind his curtain and he remembered that Papyrus was usually up at sunrise. He tried to lift his head with more effort, peeking over his brother’s neck to look at the clock that Papyrus had installed on his wall.

It was morning. About an hour or so before Papyrus’ daily routine would start.

He woke up  _early_. That was new. Sans frowned, checking his stats. Other than the warmth from last night and Papyrus’ strange appearance in his bed, everything else was fine. He was unused to sleeping beside his brother, so perhaps that was the cause of his early awakening.

His brother shifted, jostling Sans a little. He lost sight of the clock and turned to Papyrus’ half-lidded gaze.

“Nnn… Sans?” Papyrus murmured.

Sans obediently lowered his head at the tone of Papyrus’ voice. He knew that tone. It was Papyrus’ ‘ _COME HERE_ ’ voice, only dropped down to a lower level. He used it when he knew Sans had caused mischief in the house.

“what is it, pap?”

“Go back to sleep,” Papyrus whispered blearily.

Sans held in his laughter. The antidote must have made his brother incredibly tired. He kept his voice quiet, replying a simple, “okay, bro.” He didn’t think it would be a clever idea to ruin this perfect moment. It felt nice,  _so nice_ , to be held like this. He wouldn’t mind sleeping like this all the time.

Papyrus released a happy sigh on the side of his skull as Sans placed his face back on the side of his neck. Large hands caressed his spine gently, lulling him into a peaceful doze.

He fell asleep nuzzling his brother’s neck.

—

“Sans?”

Sans groaned and turned to the other side of the bed, his bones stiff. He opened his sockets when he felt a hand touch his cheekbone. Papyrus’ smiling face greeted him. He smiled reflexively, reaching out to pat his brother’s skull. He was clothed in a simple dress-shirt and a pair of formal pants, leaning over him with worry.

Was he going to work?

“Sans, I’m going to leave you in my bed… Okay?”

“papyrus?” he mumbled, not really understanding what that meant.

“It appears that you may be unwell, brother,” Papyrus murmured, continuing to caress his cheekbone. He was wearing normal day clothes. Sans made a questioning sound as he leaned to the touch, feeling satisfaction running through his magic. “Your bones are warm to the touch.”

“our bones don’t have temperature and we don’t get sick,” Sans tried to say. Instead, it came out sounding like a half-asleep garbled mess.

Fortunately, Papyrus seemed to understand.

“I imagine it may be the side-effect of the drink and this may be the antidote at work,” Papyrus replied. Sans silently agreed with him. He hadn’t felt like this until the drink and antidote. “I need to finish dinner, so I will leave you here with your phone. Please inform me if it worsens. I will be in the kitchen, and if anything goes wrong, I will be here as quick as I can.”

“dinner?” Sans sat up, slowly, testing his bones to see if it was warm. Papyrus retracted his hand, folding it over his lap. They were both sitting on his brother’s bed. He still felt the warmth from the intoxicant, but it didn’t seem as horrible as what Papyrus was probably imagining. “is it that late?”

Did he really sleep that long after waking up with Papyrus? He blinked and glanced around, suddenly aware that he was in his brother’s room. How did he get here? Did Papyrus carry him?

“You have slept until late afternoon,” Papyrus answered, concern lacing his tone. “last night, I heard you calling for me. I entered your room and found you tossing and turning in your bed. I think you were experiencing a nightmare. You only calmed after I stayed by your side.” This time, there was a blush on his brother’s face, and Papyrus averted his sockets like he was embarrassed. “I fell asleep watching over you.”

Sans mulled over his brother’s words. He didn’t remember having a nightmare. He had woken up feeling refreshed and utterly peaceful. He’d thought that he had a nice dream. The lingering sense of comfort had chased him back into reality and it still hasn’t faded away. He still felt… content.

“i don’t remember anything about nightmares,” Sans replied quietly, shaking his head. “i thought i had a good dream. i think that must have been the best sleep i’ve had in a long while.”

Papyrus turned to him, face soft with emotion. “I am glad to hear that you slept well afterwards. I had been so worried… I could not wake you up – I thought you weren’t going to wake up.”

“whatever you did  _worked_ , papyrus,” Sans said comfortingly. His brother’s concern didn’t ease. If anything, he looked even more worried. “it doesn’t matter anymore, right? i’m awake now, thanks to you.”

“You’re welcome!” He looked happily appeased as he gently rubbed the crown of Sans’ skull. “Now, please remember to call me if you feel anything odd.” Papyrus stood up and dusted his clothes, smiling gently at him. “And, please do what you do best and  _rest_ , you lazybones.”

Sans chuckled at the affectionate term, earning a fond glance from his brother. “got it. you go do your thing, pap. i’m going to laze around here.” Sans grabbed the phone and placed it on top of the pillow.

“I will call you down for dinner after everything is set,” his brother promised before leaving the room.

The door clicked in place and Sans dropped his spine on the bed again. He really wasn’t feeling that horrible, so he didn’t know if he was sick or not. It was just warmth –  _soothing_  warmth in his bones. He lifted his skull and patted his clothes, rubbing his sternum and sighing happily.

Then his fingers found a button jutting from his sweater… or not his sweater.

He shot up in surprise and clutched a handful of the pajama shirt in his hands.

This wasn’t his.

This was his brother’s clothes. His brother’s magic-enriched clothes. He could feel his brother’s magic in every thread. Where was his  _sweater?_

_Papyrus had changed his clothes._

Sans hastily grabbed his phone, typing his message with haste.

_* why did you change my clothes?_

He waited only a few seconds for the reply to come through, tapping his fingers on the pillow nervously. Did something happen to the sweater that Papyrus gave him? What did he do? Did he lose a thread or something?

The messages came quickly, in sequence.

_* I PLANNED ON CLEANING THE REST OF THE HOUSE EARLIER THIS MORNING, BUT YOU WOULD NOT LET ME GO._

_* I REPLACED MYSELF WITH A PILLOW IN HOPES THAT IT WOULD BE ENOUGH. IT WAS POINTLESS WASTE OF EFFORT! YOU WERE VISIBLY FRUSTRATED. UNCONSCIOUS, BUT VERY FRUSTRATED! YOUR SLEEPING SELF SEEMED NOT FOOLED BY MY ATTEMPT TO LEAVE THE BED AND KNEW THAT THE PILLOW WAS NOT ME, SO I HAD TO IMPROVISE. I HAD TO CAREFULLY REMOVE YOUR JACKET AND YOUR SWEATER AND THEN HASTILY PLACED MY PAJAMA SHIRT ON YOU._

_* I TRIED TO LEAVE THE ROOM, BUT THEN YOU CALLED OUT TO ME IN YOUR SLEEP! YOU WERE NOT FOOLED. AT ALL! I ASSUMED THAT YOU WOULD MIND VERY MUCH TO WAKE UP TO AN EMPTY BED, SO I BROUGHT YOU TO MY ROOM!_

_* IT WORKED!_

_* YOU SLEEP VERY PEACEFULLY IN MY ROOM, I HAVE TO ADD. I JUST KNEW YOU WOULD! MY ROOM IS ALSO AS GREAT AS ME! NYEH HEH HEH HEH!_

Sans huffed his laughter, the anxiety subsiding. He thought he’d somehow gotten the skeleton intoxicant on his clothes and Papyrus had to replace them. He felt glad that it wasn’t the case.

_* thanks, bro. you’re the coolest._

_* OF COURSE I AM!_

_* YOU’RE VERY WELCOME, SANS!_

Now that he was more aware of the vivid magic in Papyrus’ room, he felt a little better. He lied down again, making himself at home. Everything in this room resonated with his brother’s magic, something he missed during the previous timeline that Papyrus had lived with Mettaton. And not just Mettaton.

In one timeline, Papyrus dated a dog monster. Extremely loyal, but also territorial that whenever Sans visited, Other Dog rubbed his magic at anything Sans touched before allowing Papyrus to have it. His brother hadn’t liked that one bit and broke it off. Politely stating that while he felt charmed by the dog’s loyalty, Sans was his brother. Sans was no threat, and therefore Other Dog’s concerns had been unfounded and a little insulting.

Secretly, Sans had found it amusing, but Papyrus’ disappointment stopped him from fully enjoying it. He’d tended to his brother, showering him in earnest praise and supporting it with evidence with the help of their friends. Papyrus bounced back after a week, stating that Other Dog had simply failed to live to the Great Papyrus’ lofty standards.

In another timeline, it had been a dragon. Papyrus had discovered that the dragon was in it for the chests of gold that Sans kept inside their basement. Sans dealt with the dragon and dumped them at Toriel’s place. There was a strict law on monster relationships – monsters must be sincere in their courtships. It was dangerous to bond that way. The dragon had wanted to bond with his brother, not get married.

Mettaton had married his brother. Sans had approved it. Mettaton didn’t have a hard time to find a job, and Sans knew the robot could support his brother for as long as they stayed together. No doubt they had bonded after Sans’ death, knowing how much the two of them enjoyed hanging out and playing house. Papyrus could also work alone, but having Mettaton beside him would help – the robot probably had a network of friends that Papyrus could access.

If only Papyrus didn’t have to leave after the proposal… Sans would give up a secret, so Papyrus wouldn’t leave, but he didn’t think that would work. It was a natural move for a monster to  _move_  out once they had a promised partner. It wasn’t as normal as the couple staying with a brother-in-law forever.

He brushed away those thoughts with difficulty. Why would it matter now, though? There was a possible permanent ending for him, this time. No more repetitive days, no more deaths, no more RESETs…

Wasn’t that what he wanted? He knew an ending when he sensed one. This one would be the last.

Sans rubbed his face on Papyrus’ pillow to wipe away his apprehension, snuggly tucking his legs under the blankets. It smelled good. Clean. He caught hints of his brother’s scent with his magic. It smelled nice, so nice. It reminded him of good times. He grabbed the second pillow and hugged it tightly.

He didn’t want the magic to disappear. He wanted Papyrus to stay with him, not leave somewhere else. But what could he do? He really didn’t have the heart to drag his brother down with him. He was meant for a better life than this, meant for greater things and meant for someone who could love him a lot.

He didn’t know if he and Mettaton bonded. Selfishly, he hoped not. That meant that Mettaton would be the centre of his brother’s love. Mettaton would connect with Papyrus on a deeper level than what Sans’ brotherly relationship could reach. He wouldn’t be the only one who knew his brother as well as he did. He would still be a brother to Papyrus, but he would definitely be forgotten, sooner or later.

Would Papyrus even care?

Without warning, heat sparked from the core of his magic, drowning him abruptly in pleasure. Sans gasped in shock and pushed away from the pillow. He vaguely heard his phone making a loud impact on the carpet as he huddled closer to the headboard in confusion, kicking away the blankets to shove his sleeves up, checking to see if his bones had been affected by his magic.

It wasn’t.

Sans warily frowned and placed a hand on his sternum, perplexed by his magic’s reaction. He had only been thinking of Papyrus… Oh. Papyrus.

“papyrus wouldn’t care,” Sans whispered as a test.

His magic did nothing.

“would papyrus care?” he asked, feeling a little silly. Did his magic answer questions?

Maybe if he tried to believe in the—

“ _nnnggg…!_ ” Sans choked and curled into a ball, teeth clenched tight as pleasurable heat blossomed through his bones. His bones turned slightly sensitive and somehow, he could feel his brother’s magic more intensely than usual. “o-oh god, what’s happening…?”

Where was…? No, Papyrus was in the kitchen. Sans could hear him humming his cooking tune. What was…? He was supposed to do something, but he…

“ _o-oh stars, n-not again_ … _!_ ” Sans arched his spine away from the bed as another wave of heat pulsed from his SOUL. A single thought sparked in his mind. “ _papyrus_ ,” he shakily tried to call out.

It was barely even a decent whisper. He couldn’t seem to be louder than that. His magic wasn’t focusing on amplifying his voice. He needed a way to get his brother instantly, but imagining a shortcut while his magic was acting weird didn’t seem like a bright idea.

The phone.

He needed to get to the phone.

He scooted at the edge of the bed, breathing soft wisps of air as the heat reacted with tingling against Papyrus’ magic in the sheets. He reached down, one hand gripping the bed for support as he grabbed the phone. He dragged his body up and started typing, trying to call up his brother’s number, but his trembling fingers hit the wrong keys. He still succeeded in sending a jumbled message, figuring his brother would take the hint. Papyrus was a Junior Jumble Master. He could decode it.

Another heat pulsed suddenly, and Sans found himself quivering and taking frantic breaths to calm his magic, bunching up the blankets and pillows and fighting the urge to claw his brother’s sheets off and wrap it around his shoulders. He managed to make a small mess near the headboard, burrowing his head in the scent of magic.

Oh, stars, it smelled so  _good_.

“ _OH NO!_ ”

He heard his brother scrambling somewhere downstairs and he fell limp on his mess of blankets and pillows, soothed by the fact that  _Papyrus_  was coming. His brother was going to keep him safe. He wasn’t going to be left alone like this.

“SANS! SANS, ARE YOU OKAY?” Loud steps creaked on staircase, confirming his brother’s approach.

“papyrus,” Sans rasped, hoping his brother heard him.

“SANS, I’M COMING IN!” The door slammed opened and Sans groaned, twitching in his little nest as he was met with Papyrus’ concentrated magic. Papyrus’ shocked face greeted him. He blurted, “OH STARS, YOU’RE COMPLETELY SATURATED IN MA—”

“papyrus,” he whispered, cutting him off, hands weakly outstretched. Papyrus immediately rushed to his side and enclosed his hands in a strong grip. Papyrus was making a complicated expression, Sans observed weakly.

“SANS, YOUR BONES ARE EXTREMELY WARM!” Papyrus fretted over him, hands feeling his cheekbones, the side of his neck and his exposed collarbone. Sans leaned into his palms, his sockets fluttering shut as magic brought a flush to his face.  _Oh_ , that felt nice. “OH NO! YOU ARE WARM EVERYWHERE! OUR BONES HAVE NO NOTEABLE TEMPERATURE, BUT YOURS HAS ONE RIGHT NOW!!”

“i f-feel weird,” he mumbled. This… This was what he needed.

“WHAT DO I NEED TO DO?” Papyrus asked quickly, panic bleeding into his voice. He was already shoving Sans more with the blankets, as if it could help him. “SHOULD I GET DOCTOR ALPHYS? UNDYNE? THE QUEEN? OH! I SHOULD DO THAT!! I WILL GET THEM RIGHT—”

“n-no!” Sans blurted in instinctive fear, hands flying out to clutch the collar of Papyrus’ dress-shirt. “don’t leave!” His brother gazed down at him in shock, his own bare hands halfway lifted towards his hands. He immediately flushed in embarrassment and unclenched his fists, flattening his brother’s crumpled collar. “s-s-sorry. n-no. no one, pap. i don’t want...”

“But Sans, you’re sick!” Papyrus said in a small voice.

“yeah, but you’re here and you could –  _hah!_ ” Sans cried out, curling more tightly into a ball as another sudden wave hit him. Heat flickered over his bones, pleasure so intense that he could only gape and pant as the flames licked him, arms wrapping around his lower torso as the magic pooled into his ribs and his pelvis.

“SANS!” Hands scrambled to untangle him from blankets and sheets, and then he was heaved up into Papyrus’ arms. Sans felt the heat retreating and his sockets gathered tears of relief. Papyrus fussed over him in panic, the same hands also sending tingling warmth through his magic, much better than the heat that pulsed in his core. “SANS, WHAT DO I DO?!”

“ _papyrus_ ,” he sobbed weakly, the tears sliding down his cheekbones. He’d never allowed his brother to see him cry before. Papyrus made a terribly wounded noise and nuzzled the side of his skull as though he also didn’t know what else to do, murmuring his name repeatedly. The grip around his torso tightened. “i… i don’t  _know_. i don’t know what’s happening.”

It felt so  _good_ , and it also felt so intense. When Papyrus held him like this, he was so nervous, and so, so relieved. His magic soothed by the touch, even if he could feel tendrils of warmer magic in his core trying not to escape as Papyrus started to let his hands wander.

“pap,” he sighed in contentment as the heat retreated further, slumping into his brother’s grip. Being touched helped as long as it was a touch that wasn’t hindered by clothing. The magic pulsing from his brother seemed to unfurl, opening up to him, cradling him like he was something like a treasure.

Papyrus never got tired. He could stay here forever.

“Is this helping?” Papyrus questioned with hopeful sockets. He was leaning over him so protectively, caging him between open air and the bed of fluff. Sans felt… he felt  _safe_. “Contact helps?”

Sans averted his eyelights, too uncertain to admit to anything. It helped. The heat was there, but Sans focused solely on his brother’s magic that it didn’t seem important anymore. Papyrus’ fingers danced over the buttons of his pajamas and he stiffened as his brother released them and slid the top off him.

His tank top was exposed to the air, and somehow, just the trace of his brother’s bones against his own sent his mind spinning. He lifted his eyelights and blinked at his brother. “p-papyrus?” he stammered nervously, gripping onto his brother’s shirt. Why did it feel like …?

“Don’t worry, Sans,” Papyrus said determinedly, and Sans caught orange magic flaring in his socket. The gentle regard did wonders to calm Sans’ nerves. “I will find a way to take care of this.”

And then Papyrus stroked his spine.

The heat intensified. Sans swallowed his cry of shock and instead struggled to focus on his brother’s hands, pulsing soft, comforting magic on the surface of his bones, trying to chase away the heat. The magic had the intention to make him feel better, to heal him, but somehow, the heat didn’t seem to consider it. Instead, it worsened – but not in the same pulsing heat as before. This time, his magic was desperate for Papyrus’ touch, eagerly rising to meet it, making it seem so controlled. And with the way Papyrus’ fingers slipped delicately over his top, caressing gently...

He shuddered when Papyrus’ fingers glanced over the sensitive bones of his bare neck. “t-this –  _oh_ … mmm…” He tilted his skull away to give his brother more space to touch him, shuddering at every swiped of those distal phalanges. One stray touch on his collarbone sent him deeper into the haze and he missed the moment his brother slipped off his remaining top. He stared dazedly at his brother’s frown, the thoughtful, concerned twist of his browridge.

And then Papyrus  _touched_  him… so gently placing an open palm over his sternum, spreading his fingers apart. The little tremors from the touch created delightful shivers on his bones. Without gloves, he imagined he could feel their magic sliding against each other like… well, he wasn’t really sure. It was a new feeling – it felt  _pleasurable_. Like he wanted more, like it wasn’t enough, like he needed  _something_ , and that Papyrus could give it to him.

He needed more. Why wasn’t Papyrus giving him  _more_?

Sans arched into the touch with a shaky groan, hoping it would spark more magic between them.

His hands withdrew quickly and Sans dropped to the bed in confusion. Papyrus blurted loudly, “SORRY! I am so sorry, Sans, I didn’t know it would hurt—”

“doesn’t hurt… felt better,” Sans panted lightly. “ _pap_ … papyrus?” he called.

“Sans?” Papyrus whispered his name.

Sans struggled to say the words. “don’t… don’t go. don’t…  _h-hah_ , n-no… leaving.”

‘ _don’t leave me,_ ’ he pleaded, though he didn’t know if it was said in his mind or out loud. He could feel his eyelights blurring, as though it was about to get extinguished.

“I am here, brother,” Papyrus whispered softly, his hands returning to his bones.

Sans sighed softly at the touch of his brother’s phalanges, sinking into the bed. He watched his brother caress his bones through half-lidded sockets, watched those long and elegant phalanges rub each of his ribs tenderly, and watched as Papyrus didn’t meet his gaze for what felt like forever, focusing solely on his bones with a determined jut of his mandible.

He didn’t know what happened next. One moment he was blearily watching his brother, and then the next thing he knew, he's gasping for air, arching as he suppressed a keen of pleasure. His brother’s fingers had scraped lightly just under his ribs and it felt so  _amazing_  and so much…  _so much_. There was a throbbing mass of  _need_  inside his SOUL and he didn’t know why. He didn’t know how to appease it, didn’t know how to make Papyrus soothe it when his SOUL was calling out to his brother, and he didn’t know what it meant when he wanted his brother to touch him –  _touch him everywhere_. Touch him  _more_.

Papyrus rubbed his spine soothingly, like he was trying to cool his heat. It wasn't working. The more his brother touched him, the more he craved for those fingers to slip between his ribs and  _touch_. Touch Papyrus, too. Make him feel good, too. Why couldn’t he touch Papyrus? Why did it feel too much, and yet not enough?

"t... this isn't working," he sobbed. His brother stopped his ministrations and he  _ached_. Why did he  _stop_?! “ _ah_ … i feel too m-much, papyrus..."

Papyrus looked like he was about to cry with him, jaw trembling with his concern. "I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO, SANS! I DON'T KNOW WHAT'S WRONG! I'VE NEVER SEEN YOU BECOME SICK LIKE THIS!"

Sans' eyelights blurred. He reached out to his brother and cupped his cheek with trembling hands. "don't... touch... it feels so..."

“But you just said…”

“ _don’t know!_ ” Sans forced out as the heat flickered viciously. He pushed his feet on the bed, slumping down when he couldn’t gather the energy required to move away. “d-d-don’t know, pap –  _hng_! – need you, but it’s so… it’s so hot, so  _hot_! warm. c-can’t think, papyrus… pap…  _hah_ …  _hnn_ … everything is so far away… you’re so far away…” Yearning, longing…  _Papyrus, Papyrus, Papyrus_ … Why was he so far away? There were too many sheets, so many clothes between them.

“Then… Then… I should come closer.”

Papyrus did come closer, encasing him in an embrace. The movement made a pleasing rub on his bones. “ _papyrus_ …” Sans moaned and pressed closer, fingers snagging on the back of Papyrus’ work clothes. It was all wrong, this was all  _wrong_  – there were too many layers!

“What do you need, Sans?” Papyrus asked, sounding a little helpless. “ _Please_ , brother. Please tell me what you need. I don’t know what you need.”

Sans lifted his head, eyelights refocusing on his brother’s expression. He turned his gaze at his brother’s clothes and then tugged gently at his brother’s dress-shirt, murmuring, “off… off? i… i think… _closer_?”

“Good. Good, that’s a start. Right?” His brother shifted against him, unbuttoning his shirt with one hand and cutting through his undershirt with magic.

Sans’ hand eagerly sought his brother’s sternum. Papyrus stiffened above him, a flash of orange suddenly glowing brightly in his right socket, and then shuddered against his touch. His head dropped by Sans’ temporal, releasing a soft groan against his skull.

“ _Sans_ …”

Sans paused despite the tremor in his hand wishing for him to continue. “pap… are you okay…?” That… Papyrus… oh… what if Papyrus also…?

Papyrus nuzzled the side of his skull, his breathing sounding unusually drawn out and heavy. “ _Mmm_ …  _S-Sans_ … Your touch feels  _amazing_.”

“p-pap…” he gasped as Papyrus dragged his teeth down the side of his skull. “ _p-papyrus…_ o-oh gods _…_ ”

His sockets shut as he tilted his head, giving more space for Papyrus to touch. His brother didn’t disappoint, teeth sliding across his neck with renewed eagerness. His brother leaned over him, carefully shifting so his ruined clothes dropped somewhere on the edge of the bed, and then Papyrus pushed their sternums together.

“ _hng!_ ” Sans arched and curved his arms around his brother’s trembling shoulders. “so – so _good,_ papyrus…” he whispered dazedly, gazing at his brother’s ensnaring expressions. Fingers traced his spine delicately, sending pleasurable tingles in his soul. Sans copied the action on his brother sloppily, eager to make Papyrus feel just as good he was making him feel.

“ _Ah_ …  _Sans_ …” Papyrus moaned, hands lowering to his brother’s waistband, thumbs hooking delicately on the band next to his iliac crests. “Closer…  _Closer_...” his brother whispered huskily.

Then Papyrus grinded their clothed pubic symphysis together and they both cried out, grasping for each other desperately. A glow suffused their bones, gathering on their pelvis and intensifying the friction.

“ _p-please…!_ ”

“ _Sans,_ oh _…_ ” Papyrus shuddered. “ _Sans…!_   _Mmm!_   _Stars,_ you feel so _good!_ ”

Papyrus thumbed off Sans’ pants and Sans kicked them off, gasping for air. His brother leaned his forehead against his own, reaching down hastily to unbuckle his belt, removing his pants with evident ease. His brother threw them somewhere behind him before returning his attention to Sans, grinding their bones together again.

“ _o-oh! papyrus!_ ” Sans’ fingers slipped inside his brother’s ribs and Papyrus moaned low and hard, the impatient grinding turning into slow circles, their magic sparking and meeting between each friction made by their movement. Sans’ hands fumbled for a firmer hold on his brother and settled his hands over his scapula, gasping and sobbing in pleasure, tears escaping his sockets. “p-pap,  _oh stars, papyrus_ , please…  _please…!_ ”

“Oh… S-Sans…  _Yes_ …” his brother hissed between his teeth. Sans’ moved against him, matching his pace, bones rattling as the pleasure coiled around his pelvis. “T-that’s it, Sans…  _Please_ …”

“ _f-feels… good…!_ ” he moaned breathlessly. Sans opened his sockets when he unknowingly closed it and watched with blurry eyelights as Papyrus traced his ilium, going around and under him to finger the holes of his sacrum. “oh stars, oh stars, oh stars  _– nng!_   _papyrus…!_   _oh!_ m-more _, please,_   _more…!_ ”

“ _A-ah!_ ” his brother gasped as Sans pressed their sternums closer. Papyrus leaned forward and pressed their teeth together in an imitation of a kiss…

A kiss… His promised kiss…  _Papyrus_ …

 _Oh_ … This was… he was…  _aroused_. This… _This_ was sexual magic. How could he forget?

Sans nearly purred at the soft warmth of intent pressing on his teeth, kissing him back. Something at the depths of his mind was telling him to stop, but it was such a small voice, so weak compared to this pleasure. It still sent him something important… something he should be able to do when he failed before.

He pulled his hip backwards and the magic gathered in his pelvis formed a yellowish-blue shaft, so unfamiliar to his eyes, but something he knew monsters used for pleasure. He blinked slowly when Papyrus’ magic formed a similar, if a bit longer shaft, a soft glow of orange with a hint of light shades of blue.

Their magic came met again when Papyrus grasped them together, thrust after thrust drawing out cries of pleasure from their souls, rubbing and throbbing and slick, bones rattling with tension.

“O-oh, gods… oh, brother… Yes…  _Yes…!_ ” his brother murmured with desperation. “You feel amazing, Sans! More…  _More…!_ ”

Sans stiffened his eyelights disappearing and his back arching as his world whitened out, crying out his brother’s name breathlessly. “ _papyrus…!_ ” Something pulsed from his shaft and spilled over his ribs, strong shudders of his bones drawing out more of the magic to drip all over him.

“ _Sans!_ ” Papyrus jolted against him, thrusts sloppy and messy but incredibly pleasurable. “ _Oh, stars!_ ” Papyrus shuddered against him, spilling even more magic over his ribs and clavicle. He collapsed on his ulnas and radii, panting above him as his right socket glowed with orange magic. No doubt Sans’ magic was the same, based on the sensation of magic flowing through him.

“pap… papyrus…” he slurred weakly, gazing at his brother through his left eye. Papyrus gazed at him with a pleased, sated expression, though something in his sockets stoked the flames in Sans’ bones again. “pap… pap…  _m-more…_ ”

“Yes…  _Yes_ …”

He found himself on his front, Papyrus helping Sans conjure a hole for him to take. Sans moaned when Papyrus managed to coax his fingers inside, walls convulsing around his phalanges with sensitive pulses. His brother didn’t tease him, dragging and thrusting his fingers firmly against his walls and turning him into a moaning skeleton mess on the bed, keening sharply when his brother found what was probably a prostate equivalent as his shaft throbbed pleading.

“pap…  _papyrus_ , i-inside… please…” he whispered, turning his glowing eyelights at his brother. Papyrus’ eyelights flickered to his, smoldering with heat.

“Now?” his brother murmured, stopping his questing fingers. Sans nodded shortly. “I…  _Yes_ …  _Sans_ …”

Papyrus caged him between his arms when he leaned above him, teasingly rubbing his length up and down Sans’ sensitive hole. He felt he could climax with just the movements—he could tell—but… he wanted Papyrus… Oh, stars, he  _wants_. He wanted Papyrus inside him, to make him receive the pleasure instead of just—!

“papyrus –  _ah!_ ” Sans clutched his brother’s wrist as Papyrus slowly stretched him open, jaw hanging open and tongue conjured as raw pleasure filled his mind.

“ _S-Sans_ …” Papyrus growled huskily, using small thrusts to fill him completely. Sans’ bones trembled as Papyrus withdrew slowly, his walls gripping his brother’s shaft as though he couldn’t bear to be parted. “Oh… oh, stars… yes… you feel so  _good_ … Oh, gods, Sans…”

Sans cried out as Papyrus slammed forward, delivering hard thrusts and deeply reaching parts of him that had Sans pushing back with a shaky moan, tears streamed down his cheekbones and soaking the sheets with his. “yes… yes…! papyrus... oh, stars, oh! so deep, so g-good—!”

Papyrus dislodged his hand from his wrist and then grabbed his shaft, pumping him in the same pace.

“ _oh!_ ” Sans moaned, losing all sense of thought as Papyrus pulled him closer to limit his movement to quick, short thrusts that hit his spot dead-centre, jostling him back and forth as he chanted his brother’s name and lost himself in pleasure, and the dazzling colours across his vision.

“S-Sans…!”

Sans collapsed on his arms, sobbing as Papyrus took him desperately, unable to hold himself up. His brother followed him, pinning him down and continuing with his relentless pace, the delicious friction of his shaft against his walls building the heat inside.

“ _c-close…_  ahh! papyrus!” Sans arched again, gasping as he pulsed and spilled magic all over the bed. He pushed against his brother when he stopped thrusting, still hard and throbbing inside of him.

His own throbbed in sympathy. Papyrus should’ve had… but… but—

“N… Not yet, Sans…!” Papyrus turned him on his back without leaving him, manoeuvring his legs to hook around him before continuing with short thrusts, causing small tremors in Sans as his magic registered the movement.

Papyrus’ half-lidded sockets met his own blurred eyelights, and then Papyrus leaned over to tangle their tongues together and work him into the mattress, swallowing more of his keening moans. Sans wrapped his arms around Papyrus and took him, took him deeper, took him so  _good_.

“ _p-p-pap!_ ” he keened when Papyrus found his prostate again, hips reflexively pushing into Papyrus’ rhythm as his magic dripped over him. His head dipped back, and Papyrus licked his neck with a low groan. He couldn’t think, but his mouth fell open, slurring out words of encouragement, hoping he wouldn’t stop. “yes… yes…!  _please_ … inside…  _inside…!_ ”

Papyrus growled against him and reduced him into spouting incomprehensible murmurs of his name, pounding harder and harder until their bones met with loud clacks and their magic slapped loudly against each other.

“ _S-Sans, oh, stars_ …” Papyrus fingered his sacrum and Sans  _screamed_.

His magic spilled between them, marking their bones with a bluish hue, clenching so hard around Papyrus. His brother hissed his name in pleasure, pressing in once, and then twice, spilling his magic inside. Sans trembled at the thought of Papyrus’ magic so deeply in him, clenching close so it wouldn’t spill out.

Sans caught him as he dropped on top of him, whimpering against his brother’s mouth and licking in to trace his magic inside. Papyrus kissed him languidly, drawing little shapes on his spine, pulling away and whispering his name.

“ _Please… Sans…_ ”

Sans groaned when Papyrus lowered his skull, taking him into his mouth. Sans muffled a shout in his palm, meeting his brother’s gaze as he slipped his fingers through the mess inside him. Sans moaned and fell on the bed, doubled pleasure seizing his soul and keeping him active as his hips moved with Papyrus’ bones prodding on his prostate.

“ _ah!_ ”

He spilled into his brother’s mouth after Papyrus swallowed around him—weak and sated, again—but then Papyrus’ tongue continued lower and entered him. He clenched reflexively, arching his spine and biting his wrist as Papyrus curled and twisted his tongue, his sensitive walls convulsing around the appendage. He was crying out, shaking, as Papyrus toyed with his insides, tonguing him thoroughly that he cleaned Sans of his pleasure, but then he grasped him and started pumping again.

He didn’t stop even as Sans whimpered a warning.

“ _papyrus!_ ” Sans’ hands gripped the sheets beside his head tightly as his climax dropped him on the bed, bones rattling from so much pleasure. He covered his sockets with his arm, panting, flustered and so terribly confused.

Papyrus pulled away with a pleased sound, hands gently caressing his femur. As the heat settled more calmly within Sans, his brother moved and held him close, magic fluttering against him like a sweet song of satisfaction. His magic reacted with an equally pleased response, and Papyrus planted a kiss on his temple for his magic’s effort.

Sans blushed. Had… Had they really – had they just—?

He groaned, shifting on the bed. Stars, he was going to feel this tomorrow – he hadn’t been used to such touch, failing to summon even a drip of sexual magic some years ago. The humiliation had sufficiently halted any repetitions of the event. He’d _forgotten_ everything about it, until now.

Oh god… How stupid was that? Remembering _sex_ was a thing because he’d forcefully ignored it in the past? Stars, kill him.

“Sans…”

Sans slowly lifted his arm and flushed with magic at Papyrus’ expression. He licked his teeth and took in his brother’s dishevelled state with appreciation, committing it to memory. The dripping magic from his brother’s sternum was an appealing shade of their magic. He wanted to lick it off. He wanted to trail his tongue and play with his brother’s bones and offer the same, loving treatment that his body and magic deserved.

“ _again?_ ” he asked lowly.

“Again…” His brother blushed under his gaze, shyly glancing away as though he just realized what he’d done to Sans.

Unable to stop himself, Sans flipped him over with a growl, magic gathering in his bones. It drew a sweet, wide-eyed gaze from his sweet brother. Sans’ sockets lowered halfway as he took in more evidence of their coupling.

“my turn,” he murmured, cupping his brother’s cheekbones and kissing him.

—

They didn’t sleep until the morning of the next day, too wild with magic and soaked with desire to pleasure each other until they were a quivering mess… which Papyrus became after Sans held off from his climax until Papyrus spilled on the sheets four times and twice in Sans’ mouth.

(Papyrus might have proposed to him while Sans’ mind was drowning from the aftershocks of his climax.

He wasn’t sure if he’d dreamt it or not…)

Sans had to convince his brother to rest, as his unstoppable energy seemed to affect them both. The more pleasure they gave each other, the more it reverberated between the two of them, and the more they had the need to jump each other before they could even reach the door to get some food.

Once they both woke up, his brother felt so embarrassed that he acted so… acted so lewd. Papyrus apologized profusely for taking advantage of him and Sans apologized for not realizing sooner why he felt weird at that time. Truthfully, it was his fault he’d forgotten everything about nests and mating.

However, despite all that, they still could not keep away from each other.

One minute they were saying sorry again after a late lunch, the next Papyrus had him pinned against the wall and kissing him so passionately, and Sans dragged him closer by the back of his shirt, moaning shakily, wanting so badly to return to Papyrus’ room to continue where they left off earlier. He just wasn’t sure if that was a good idea with their responsibilities hanging by their head.

Papyrus slowed down, and then he pulled away, panting softly and gazing at him with an indecipherable expression. “Sans…”

“y… yeah?” he murmured, taken breathless by the kiss.

“Did you… Did you promise your kiss to me?”

Sans inhaled sharply.  _Oh_. “yes.” He could finally answer it. How many times have they kissed? He’d already lost count. He survived… it meant he was also Papyrus’ first kiss.

“That means I was there when you promised me this,” Papyrus whispered, caressing his cheek with the back of his hand. Sans leaned into the touch, sighing. “And I don’t remember—did I make you promise something else?”

Sans shut his sockets. “yes…” he whispered. “but i can’t tell you, because you also told me to not tell anyone who didn’t already know about it.”

Papyrus nodded and leaned their foreheads together. “Sans?”

“yeah?”

“Since we… Since we’ve done things…” Papyrus cleared his intangible throat. Sans hummed against him, gazing at his brother’s face intently. “I feel responsible for—I mean I _do_ want this and… Would you, perhaps, ah…”

“pap?”

“Bond with me?”

A hidden thrill of surprise and delight engulfed his SOUL. Oh…

 _Finally_.

Sans ticked off another promise from his list and laughed softly.

“yeah,” he murmured. “let’s get that promise, too.”

Papyrus’ sockets widened. “ _Oh._ ”

The last RESET… This was a happy beginning.

 

 

 

* * *

 

[Although… that meant… that meant Papyrus drank the bottle on his own, in those other timelines.

He swore to himself he’d never let Papyrus drink without supervision.  _This_  was the reason Papyrus married Mettaton?!] 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woo boy.

**Author's Note:**

> Did I smut it right? I was half-asleep when I wrote it...
> 
>    
> This is named originally as Scenario 1, but it wasn't Scenario 1, but Scenario... 4-ish. 
> 
> \- Scenario 1 Included Sans drinking in public, with Papyrus coercing him (it was some kind of Christmas Party with the others and there's a mistletoe game where there's a number and a unit [ex: minute, hours, days] and Sans gets stuck with 1H and his brother, but he's tipsy so he's sweeter and more free with himself), 
> 
> \- Scenario 2 included Sans drinking WITH Papyrus in public, coerced again (It was, this time, Sans having more reserved form real-time while his drunk form is incredibly charismatic and sensual and cool and seductive), 
> 
> \- Scenario 3 included Sans drinking in private... Papyrus coerced him again (he's going to propose someone and Sans knows they'll accept, but Sans seduces him away).


End file.
